


Ohana Mahalo

by WalkingDictionary (Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Main character death (not main cast), Rape of main character, Spoilers for Seasons One and Two, Torture, set in Season Two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:12:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scared_Beings_in_the_Dark/pseuds/WalkingDictionary
Summary: Wo Fat, in his quest to learn more about Shelburne, leaves a wake of destruction. Five-Oh learns what is means to truly be Ohana. Rated M.





	1. Part I: Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if something is wrong or bothers you. Thank you for reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story is dark. There are warnings: spoilers, rape, torture, a bit of language, and deaths of multiple original and canon characters (none of the team). This story is set during the last episode of Season Two and avoids the mess that was the Delano kidnappings. Malia is still alive, but she does not appear in this story.  
> This was written at least three years ago. Obviously, my writing style has changed. I hope that means that the story is still enjoyable for you, dear readers.  
> As always, let me know if something bothers you and thank you for reading.  
> -Scaredbeingsinthedark aka WalkingDictionary
> 
> (Original author's note that appeared on post)

* * *

 Danny Williams hates being a good friend sometimes. Right now, he hates it so much more than usual. His friend, Steve McGarrett roped him into helping clean out an old storage locker of his parents'. Somehow, he'd been able to pull the rest of the team—Chin Ho Kelly and Kono Kalakaua—into it too. Along with Kamekona, shave ice/shrimp truck entrepreneur, and Steve's former commander, Joe White. The only ones here of their own free will are the McGarretts. Mary had flown in especially for this, and Steve is the bastard who'd set them all up.

"Heads up," Steve says to Danny as he tosses an old stroller at him. "You ever think of having another kid?"

"Maybe," Danny hedges, curious as to what has brought this side of Steve out. "A couple years, the right woman." He waits patiently while Steve digs out a large, empty box. "Why you wanna know? You ever think of having kids?"

"I might," Steve says, handing him the box and then tossing small non-breakables at him to fill it with. "I don't know. Mary says she wants kids in three years. I'm older, aren't I supposed to have kids first?"

"Let me tell you something," Danny says, motioning for Steve to stop a minute. "My baby sister, six years younger than me, she had kids first. Because of that, it was easy to decide. So yeah, wait for Mary to have her kids to see if you want your own. Don't do it just to do it first."

"Are you the oldest in your family?" Steve's already back to his pile of crap, a few more things tossed at Danny as he finds them.

"The oldest what? Boy? Child? No, neither. I've got an older brother and an older sister. My mom? She pushed out eight of us."

"Eight of you?" Steve stops digging for more knickknacks and pins Danny with a narrowed-eye stare.

"What?" Danny demands.

"Just thinking," Steve says.

"About what?" Awful, Danny thinks. This is like pulling teeth from someone who just does not care.

"There are eight of you? Are you all alike?" Steve flaps a hand in a jabber motion. "All talking nonstop?"

Danny just glares at him before chucking a small, stuffed moose at his chest. Steve laughs, tossing it back.

They finish cleaning their section—quadrant, Steve'd called it, and of course he would have tackled this as a military operation—without exchanging another word. Steve still chuckles now and again, but Danny is determined not to engage him.

Mary and Kono collect them for lunch; shrimp and shave ice from Kamekona's truck. Despite never having indigestion from anything but the seasonings, Danny calls it a salmonella-on-wheels provider. Kamekona huffs a bit, puffs a lot, and charges Danny an extra hand for his lunch, but in the end, they're all still almost-friends and as close as any family forced to work together can be.

Still, it's a surprise when, as they are digesting their food, and Danny is plotting excuses to get out of cleaning the rest of the storage locker, Mary and Steve hand each of them a bag.

"Oh, you gave us stuff from your dead parents," Danny says. Steve glares at him. "I mean, thank you for giving us stuff."

"Go ahead and open them," Mary says, seeming not to notice the animosity between her brother and his partner.

Danny finds an old watch in his bag. Chin has a case of collector's cards. Kono gets a bunch of small tiki-surfboards, the kind one sets on a shelf and then dreads dusting. Kamekona opens a crate of old VHS tapes. And Joe White swears softly when he pulls out an old jewelry box.

"Son, I can't keep this," he says, already shoving it back at Steve. Danny can sense the fear from Joe.

"Hey, you know my dad wanted you to have this. Don't make me be a bad son by not getting you to take it."

"What is it?" Danny asks, nose firmly planted exactly where he's sure Steve doesn't want it. "Why are you giving that to Joe?"

"Because," Steve says through gritted teeth, "my dad gave it to my mom for their twentieth wedding anniversary. He'd actually forgotten to get anything for her, so Joe gave him this jewelry box to surprise her. Mom was killed two weeks later. Dad couldn't quite give it back because she'd loved it so much. He made me promise to get it back to Joe when he died."

"You really should keep it," Joe says. "Maybe Mary wants it."

Mary looks up at her name, studies the box, and shakes her head. "Dad always said it was yours. He made me promise if Steve died before him, that I would get it to you."

Joe sighs, offering it to everyone at the table. Chin and Kono glare but don't say anything. Danny does—he runs on a bit about how it's insulting to all the McGarretts, even the dead ones, especially the dead ones, that he won't take it. When he's done ranting, Joe looks contrite and he keeps the box.

Steve smiles again and bumps shoulders with Danny—a sign he's happy with him again.

"What do you think of adoption?" he asks then, showing Danny how his new-old watch opens to store a small photograph.

"I don't know," Danny replies, thinking right place, right time. "Maybe. Depends."

"Okay," Steve draws out the word, seemingly pensive rather than annoyed at Danny's non-answer. "Okay," he says again, "let's get back to work. There may be more 'stuff' in it for all of you."

"Sounds good," Danny says, letting everyone wander off to their vehicles to store the things they'd gotten, while he pulls a copy of Grace's latest school picture from his wallet. He uses a pocketknife to carefully trim the sides until he can put the picture in the watch. He slips it on and looks up to find Steve smiling at him.

"Ready?" he asks, and Danny nods.

"Lead the way."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to original post: [Ohana Mahalo](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11863444/1/Ohana-Mahalo)
> 
> Edited briefly to fix grammatical errors (please note, many may still remain. It is okay to point them out for me, thanks).


	2. Chapter One

* * *

**~Three Months Later~**

Wo Fat opens the window, anxious only that he will be interrupted before he can complete his mission. Steve McGarrett is his target. His contact on the outside told him Joe White led McGarrett to Shelburne, but the contact has proven unreliable before, so Wo Fat will trust only himself to retrieve the information he so desperately requires.

He needs to capture McGarrett again, ask the same questions, maybe use another cattle prod.

His escape from prison was nothing fabulous—just put on a guard's uniform and walked right out. Finding McGarrett was even easier since the over-confident ex-SEAL still lives in his childhood home.

Now, Wo Fat focuses on staring into the darkness that is the McGarretts' living room. McGarrett's bedroom is upstairs, and Wo Fat ignores it in favor of setting up his own little "room." He doesn't fear being interrupted now that he's inside.

The coffee table, covered neatly in coasters and car repair manuals, will do nicely for his torture table, and he carefully cleans everything off, replacing it with wooden paddles, some blades, and a new cattle prod. The couch is too soft, but Wo Fat has two flat boards embedded with glass to remedy that. He makes several trips to his van, each time smiling at the metal safe bolted to the floor, remembering the snap of the waitress's neck. She'd deserved to die, after all. He'd paid her a hundred dollars to slip a homemade knockout drug into McGarrett's food earlier. Witnesses were bad for business.

Finally, Wo Fat is set up. He'd emailed McGarrett's HQ with an Internet address he had gotten from dear little Mary, saying she was back in town to look after her brother who was fighting a bad cold. A response from Kono Kalakaua, the only member of Five-Oh still up at one in the morning, is sympathetic and threatens to have Danny stop by around the "usual time."

No matter, Wo Fat only needs a few hours to perform the necessary procedure. He will be long gone, with McGarrett, before anyone stops by the house. Surveying his handiwork one last time, he nods to himself and heads upstairs to collect his subject.

McGarrett is lying on his stomach, head and shoulders on the bed, legs hanging off the edge. He's thrown up somewhere in the room, and Wo Fat frowns in disgust at the smell of it. Using one hand, he grabs the back of McGarrett's shirt and hauls him upright. Unfocused eyes drift onto and then past his face as the partially conscious McGarrett wavers on his feet.

"You should be dead," he mumbles, words slurred, voice thick. "I should kill you." McGarrett moves slowly, hand rising only to bounce harmlessly off Wo Fat's chest. Still, it is an insult he doesn't intend to let slide.

With an arm around McGarrett's shoulders, Wo Fat uses his body and other arm to knock him off his feet so he can pick him up with one arm under his knees now. Vertigo makes McGarrett cling to him. The drug is almost too strong, but he doesn't want the dose to be less because then he'd have to fight McGarrett just to carry him down the stairs and dump him in front of the couch. As it is, McGarrett still moves a little too much even if it's to sway to the side so he can dry heave in open space. He grunts, air whooshing out almost comically when Wo Fat lets him fall onto the floor.

Using a knife, some big-blade military type that has McGarrett holding still, he cuts off the shirt he doesn't need any more. Then he picks McGarrett up again and drops him onto the boards. Surprisingly, McGarrett stays still, looking up at him with eyes that slowly fill with tears as the glass cuts into his bare skin and the pain enters his fuzzy brain.

Gently, Wo Fat puts his hands on McGarrett's chest, suppressing a smile as McGarrett grabs his wrists but otherwise doesn't move. He leans his weight onto his hands, moving them quickly so McGarrett's body jerks over the glass. There is a puddle of blood seeping from beneath McGarrett when he stops and yanks him upright.

"What is the importance of Shelburne?" Wo Fat asks as he forces McGarrett over a wooden chair, found in the dining and moved to the living room for this purpose. He cuffs his wrists to the front legs. Then he winds a length of cord around McGarrett's legs, lacing them to the back legs. The high back is resting against the bottom of McGarrett's chest.

"I told you, I don't know." The words are less slurred now, but it's obvious he's still under the influence. "Why are you doing this again?"

Wo Fat answers him by ripping open a packet of alcohol wipes. "Shelburne," he says, waiting for McGarrett to shake his head before he runs it down his bloody back. McGarrett hisses and hunches over farther, chair scraping the floor as it rocks underneath his weight. When the packet is empty, Wo Fat undoes the restraints and turns McGarrett around. He has one of McGarrett's hands against the chair when McGarrett bucks, shoving his other hand against Wo Fat's neck and twisting free. They grapple quickly, Wo Fat trying to subdue McGarrett and McGarrett trying to escape. Eventually, after a few seconds, McGarrett knocks Wo Fat against the coffee table. He grabs the cattle prod as it rolls, flicking it on and shoving it against McGarrett. He barely touches it to the middle of his back, but McGarrett arches and screams, limbs shooting out and then contracting as he tries to crawl away from the electrified tip. Another sharp hit from the prod knocks him flat on his stomach.

While McGarrett lies still, painting through the pain, Wo Fat props him upright and cuffs him to the chair again, bending him backward this time, so his chest and stomach are exposed. Then he picks up the cattle prod from where he'd let it fall. He turns it off and runs it over McGarrett's chest. He flinches and shudders, and Wo Fat smiles.

"You know who Shelburne is," he says, turning the prod on and letting it hover it over McGarrett's bellybutton. The electricty makes the hairs stand on end. "You'll tell me."

"I don't know. I can't tell you."

He touches the prod to McGarrett's skin, pressing it into his stomach. McGarrett cries out, twisting in his bonds as he unsuccessfully tries to escape from the pain. Wo Fat counts to five before lifting the device. He waits for McGarrett to stop panting before he leans over him again.

"Joe White knows who Shelburne is," he says, reaching out to cup McGarrett's cheek so he can't look away. "If you can't tell me where Shelburne is, maybe he can."

"Joe White is none of my concern," McGarrett spits out. "You can track him yourself."

"No, Steven," Wo Fat smiles, something cold and dangerous rising in him, "you'll bring him to me." He shoves the prod against McGarrett's chest, holding it in place with both hands as McGarrett thrashes, screaming. He moves it over his torso, pressing lightly in some areas and harder in others. He waits twenty seconds before turning it off to listen to McGarrett's ragged half-sobs.

"I can't help you," he whispers, so low Wo Fat has to lean close to hear him. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

"In time," he replies, a harsh hiss in McGarrett's ear. "Right now, you need to do something." He releases McGarrett's restraints, holding him upright while he retches from the pain or the drug again. "Hurry up, Steven. We don't have much time."

* * *

Danny Williams gets a call from his colleague Kono Kalakaua shortly—fifteen seconds—after he wakes up. All she says is Mary McGarrett emailed saying Steve is out sick.

"You want me to check on him, don't you?" he says. She just laughs. "All right. I'll make sure it's legit. Let me just get some real food before I go to his place, okay?"

Real food turns out to be corn flakes with the chocolate milk he'd bought for Grace. His usual fifteen-minute shower resembles one of Steve's three-minute SEAL showers. All told, he's out the door and on his way in less than twenty minutes.

The drive is uneventful, especially because his foot is not made of lead nor does he see any reason to weave maniacally through the light traffic. Still, he makes it to Steve's with a whole hour before he's due at work.

Nothing looks out of place, including the fact that there is no rental car in the driveway. Unless Steve had picked Mary up and then fallen ill, Mary hadn't driven to Steve's house.

Just to be sure, Danny pulls out his sidearm. Steve might appreciate a courtesy knock, but Danny doesn't want to tip off any baddies inside, if indeed there are baddies inside, and Steve can complain later, once Danny knows he's safe.

The front door is unlocked, and Danny slips it open only wide enough to duck through. He brings up his gun and sweeps the room. And then he stops. There's a plywood board with embedded glass on Steve's couch, and there's a substantial amount of blood on the board. There's a wooden chair from the dining room table in the middle of the living room, blood on it too. The coffee table is too clean, and there's blood drops all over the floor.

On the wall, painted with fingers dipped in what looks like even more blood is a coded message.

Danny calls Kono and barely makes it outside to throw up in a fern some old neighbor gave Steve at his father's funeral.

* * *

Dr. Max Bergman examines the individual deposits of blood carefully, allowing the crime scene unit a chance to photograph everything from all angles before he takes a sample from each spot. He even takes some from the message on the wall. Danny's initial assessment that the message was written with fingers appears to be accurate due to the multiple fingerprints Chin Ho Kelly is looking at.

"I already got a match back," he says, his tone hollow and maybe a little angry.

"Commander McGarrett's then," Max says, wincing when Chin nods. "I suspect this blood is his too."

"How much do you think he lost? Too much?"

"Not enough to be dead, but, yes, a significant amount. He is weakened, and likely unable to survive for an extended period of time without medical assistance. It is also unlikely, if he has indeed been abducted, that he will be able to fight his captor."

"So, we'll just have to fight for him," Danny says as he comes up to them from canvassing nearby witnesses. His tone is even more dejected than Chin's, and Max surmises that the interviews were not favorable. "Do we know who has him, and do we know what he was trying to say?"

Steve's message is phonetic at best, not written in any language with which any of them are familiar. They can't even call a translator until they know what language he was trying to replicate, although Kono has suggested emailing sections of it to dialect professors to see if they recognize any of it.

"We believe the message is about this person." Chin points at a nearly illegible scribble. "I was able to make out a 'j' and an 'e.' Here and here."

"Joe," Danny says suddenly, stabbing at the space between the 'j' and 'e.' "It's gotta be. Too much of a coincidence not to be."

"Does that mean this message is for Joe White, or is Joe White Commander McGarrett's abductor?"

Chin and Danny turn to stare at Max, who shrugs apologetically.

"It bothers me," Danny finally says. "It really does. The answer, Max, is that we don't know."

* * *

Danny's sitting on the front steps when the governor arrives, his black limousine sliding to a stop gracefully. Sam Denning is an impressive man, but he's inherited a cluster-fuck, especially keeping Steve and Five-Oh intact. Oh, he thinks they work for him, but really, they only work his cases because Steve's interested in them.

"Detective Williams," Denning says, and Danny stands up to shake his hand. "This is private?"

"More private than your office or mine," he replies.

"Very well. What I wanted to talk to you about is Commander McGarrett's abduction. I do not want you to involve HPD. We have evidence of more leaks."

"I thought we didn't know who'd taken him?"

"Exactly. We do not know whom the information would be passed along to, and it could possibly get him killed. If he's not already dead."

Danny glares at Denning, but Denning doesn't notice; he's too busy scrolling through his phone to pay attention to Danny's reactions.

"I already have people on the crime scene unit that responded to your call," he says. "You have no other cases. I will get HPD to leave you alone, if I can."

"No promises," Danny says. "All right, Governor. We'll keep it as in-house as we can. You do your damage control, and I'll keep you posted." He won't. Not really. Not until he's got McGarrett back safe and sound, but what the governor doesn't know will probably get Danny fired, like Laurie.

"Thank you, Detective Williams." Another handshake and then Denning goes back to his limousine.

The limitations will hinder the investigation, Danny knows. Four people just don't have the manpower needed to locate a missing person, especially if one of those four is the missing person.

Danny growls in frustration, kicking at a stone on the steps before he heads back inside to see how long he can go before he breaks the governor's stupid silence rule. 

* * *

 


	3. Chapter Two

* * *

Steve wakes up when Wo Fat turns him onto his back. He struggles, kicking his restrained legs into his abductor's chest, ignoring the pain in his back and the numbness of his arms. He receives a strong punch to his stomach to help discourage him, and it works because it forces him to stop to catch the breath he's just had knocked out of him.

While he sucks air into his lungs, Steve catalogs himself, noting that he has bandages of some kind tapped over his back where the most damage was done. He's certain he's been tended to only to ensure his survival.

"Your message failed to make it through," Wo Fat says, pulling Steve upright and finally freeing his arms, although he leaves his legs alone. "Unless you used the message to warn Joe White away."

"I wrote exactly what you told me to. Nothing more, nothing less."

Wo Fat's face sets, and Steve shuts up, unwilling to be hit again. He is pushed into a small room, a bathroom. Years of military service have trained him to ignore the open door in favor of relieving himself. He's a little concerned that his fingers are only just starting to tingle.

The trailer Wo Fat brought him to after the mess they'd made at Steve's house used to be Frank Durran's. Steve only recognizes it for the window that's been boarded over.

After securing him again, ankles hobbled and tied to the legs of the chair, Wo Fat drags a power line from a neighbor's trailer and uses the stolen energy to cook a few eggs and toast.

On principle, Steve refuses to eat anything, opting instead to drink a still-sealed bottle of water Wo Fat had brought with them from his house.

"It doesn't matter," Wo Fat says when Steve avoids the plate set for him. "You'll break faster if you don't eat."

"Wait," Steve says. "You're still going to torture me?" He looks down at his legs, testing the strength of the bonds again. Then he looks at Wo Fat who's got his big-ass military-grade knife again, reminding Steve he's still shirtless.

"You know more than you are telling me. It's only fair I get a chance to reveal it."

"The more you hurt me, the less I'll tell you," Steve promises, scooting backward with the chair as Wo Fat stands up. Three steps and Wo Fat has him pinned on his back on the floor. He can feel the cuts break open again and blood start pooling beneath him while Wo Fat works a hand into his pants.

"I do not like sexual torture," he says as he squeezes Steve's balls. "It lacks the finesse of—"

"A cattle prod," Steve gasps out, shifting to try to relieve the increasing pain. He shoves his hands against Wo Fat's chest, ineffectual against the mounting pressure on his balls.

"Older techniques my father taught me. But, as he sometimes was forced to resort to it, so shall I unless you give me the knowledge I seek."

"I can't give you what I don't have."

"Very well." Wo Fat pulls his hand out of Steve's pants and snaps a pair of cuffs around his wrists, dragging him to the bedroom by his wrists. Steve never stops struggling as Wo Fat heaves him up and onto the bed, wrapping a rope around the chain of the cuffs to secure it to the headboard. He tugs on the rope to test it. Satisfied when it doesn't give, he moves to cut the binding on Steve's ankles, tying each one to a corner of the bed so he's spread out. He looks unimpressed at the kicks Steve aims at his groin.

"You have six hours before I start the sexual torture. That does not mean I am not going to torture you. It just means you have six hours to give me what I want or for your message to get to Joe White. If either fails…you will see."

He leaves Steve to fight his knots while he moves around the trailer collecting different items. He makes just enough ominous clattering to worry Steve into doubling his efforts to free himself.

He grunts in frustration when the bonds won't give, fighting back the wave of helplessness that swells over him. He's unsure if he can survive this next session when he's still weak from the first one.

It takes Wo Fat several minutes to return, but when he does, Steve sees why it took so long—somewhere Wo Fat found a butane torch and a lot of metal objects that can be heated and inserted into various body parts.

He swallows hard and sets his jaw and the first—same—question is asked. He still screams when the heated needle goes through the index finger of his left hand.

* * *

Danny sits hunched over a stack of photographs of Steve's message while Kono points out almost words from it. Danny's pen hasn't moved even though he's holding it poised to paper, and Kono is really starting to worry about him.

"We'll find him," she says, watching him lower his head to the desk. "Do we know who has him?"

"No." Danny's voice is muffled. "All we know is he was taken because of something to do with Joe White."

"Are we looking for Joe?"

"You think we aren't? We can't locate him. He's a ghost. Listen, I feel useless sitting here looking at these pics I can't even decipher. Let Fong have a go at 'em. I'm gonna catch up with Chin to see if he's got anything on the trace collected at the scene."

Danny stops straightening the photos long enough to grab his tie and phone. Kono waits until the door swings shut before she grabs everything they want Fong's help with and leaves Danny's office.

Charlie Fong is bent over a microscope when Kono arrives, and he quickly directs her to an open table so she can start laying out the message while he finishes analyzing what he's looking at.

"Has anyone contacted his sister?" Fong asks after staring at the message for a few moments.

"I think Duke at HPD was trying to get a hold of her, why?"

"Here." Fong thrusts a magnifying glass under her nose and taps a cluster of letters around 'Joe.' "It's her name with something similar to phonetic Latin."

"Steve knows Latin?" Kono shakes her head. "Wait, why is Mary's name in the message?"

"I don't know. What I do know is you're going to have to find a fluent Latin speaker to speak the syllables into words."

"Thanks, Charlie, that's actually really helpful."

Fong smiles. "Also, I think I know a guy who can help."

Kono gives him a quick hug. "Have him call me. I've gotta update Danny. Thanks again."

All this running around with few results is going to burn her out quickly, Kono decides, idling at another red light. She pulls into a gas station, hitting the steering wheel with her head as she rests for a little while. Her quasi-nap is interrupted by her phone going off.

"Kalakaua," she grunts.

"Kono?" a tearful-sounding woman asks. "Oh, my god, Kono!"

"Mary?" It takes a few seconds, but once Kono has Steve's sister in mind, the voice clicks. "Mary, what's wrong?"

"This van ran me off the road. I came back because an HPD officer told me Steve's been taken. I barely got out of the airport."

"Where are you? Is the van still near you?"

"No, no, it drove off." Mary inhales, a pop of noise against Kono's ear. "He stopped and was going to get out, but Kamekona stopped too."

"You're with Kamekona?"

"Yeah, he took me to the hospital to get checked out. Said something about staying on 'mah bruddah's' good side. Is there any news on Steve?"

Kono bites her lip, wants to tell Mary everything because she's the boss's sister, and she's been really helpful in the past, but then again, that was with Steve's blessing. She's unsure of Danny's reaction to bringing a civilian into the investigation, especially since the governor specifically disallowed them from involving HPD beyond the basic BOLOs and contacting family.

Screw it, she decides, she'll deal with the fallout later. "Hey, Mary, do you know if Steve learned Latin?"

"He took four years of it in high school, but I don't know if he followed through with it. He didn't seem to like it—could never spell the words right." Mary laughs suddenly, something warm in her tone. "His teacher sent home so many notes, and Steve would translate them into his version before our aunt saw them."

"Could you understand Latin?"

"Yeah, I thought it'd be something we could have in common, y'know? Like Sherlock Holmes and my dad."

Kono knows now she was right to trust her gut. Mary can help their investigation move along more quickly.

"I'm going to meet you, and I'm bringing some things I want you to look at. Can you do that for me?"

"Will this help you find Steve?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm in. I'll be at Kamekona's usual spot."

"Be there in fifteen," Kono promises, glad she's already headed that way and doesn't need to turn around in traffic.

* * *

Almost as soon as he climbs into his car, Danny gets a call from HPD. They are assisting the Honolulu Fire Department with a suspected arson case, and could Five-Oh help, too?

"No," Danny says. "Not right now anyway. We're working on an unofficial case from the governor, something so top secret it makes undercover work look legit. But, hey, send me all your info on it, and we'll work on it if we get some spare time." He also manages to say something about trusting HPD to do a fine job without them.

"I'll email you," Sergeant Duke Lukela says, and Danny hears typing. "We have pictures of the scene and the crowd. Charlie Fong'll be processing our evidence, so you talk to him if you think you didn't get everything."

"Will do." Danny waits for a few seconds, hears Lukela suck in a breath, knows something's coming.

"Do you know why McGarrett isn't answering his phone?"

"Top secret mission. He'll get back to you as soon as he can."

"Is he missing? There's a rumor going 'round here that he's been taken."

The crime scene unit was supposed to be sworn to silence by Governor Denning, but that seems to be working about as well as Danny could have guessed. Hopefully, HPD keeps it in-house since Denning didn't want the public to know that Five-Oh had been targeted, and also because he thought they still have leaks in HPD. Personally, Danny wants HPD on their side. They have more manpower than Five-Oh and can help locate Steve easier.

"You know what?" Danny makes an executive decision, and Chin and Kono can bitch him out later. "He is missing. He was abducted by someone who tortured him and forced him to write a message with his own blood. I need you to keep it quiet on orders of the governor. Any help we can give you your case will be determined by how fast we find McGarrett."

"I understand. And Williams?"

"Yeah?"

"You catch that sonofabitch, you hear me? You make him pay."

"Absolutely. Keep in touch, Sergeant." Danny hangs up first, wondering if the case of arson might have something to do with Steve's abduction. He has no evidence of anything yet, but he decides there's a way to find out. "Chin!"

Chin, who'd been on his way to meet him at his car, follows him back inside and to the data table. Danny explains his idea quickly, and Chin searches, nimble fingers flicking over the surface with an agitated energy.

"Look at this," Chin says suddenly, jabbing at the uploaded pictures of Steve's message. He traces a few letters, and Danny starts to see it too.

"Sonofabitch," he swears quietly. The address of the burned out building—4678 Kahala Avenue—is similar to what looks like an address in Steve's message. "Can't be a coincidence," he says, too stunned to do more than stare. "What if Steve was in that building?"

"We don't know anything," Chin says. "We don't even know if that  _is_  an address."

"Voice of reason, take a hike. I need to believe this wasn't an accident."

"You also need to believe Steve's not there. Steve's not dead."

"Still, we should check it out."

"Never said we shouldn't."

"No, you didn't."

* * *

 


	4. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has rape in it. The second section, starting with "Wo Fat finally runs out of needles and knives." Check the end notes for major plot points.

* * *

Kamekona is an entrepreneur, and he'll usually tell everyone that fact as least a couple times per week. Right now, though, he's a babysitter. Again. This time, it's his choice, so he feels better about missing out on some pretty good business.

" _Mahalo_ ," Mary says when he hands her a shave ice topped with everything.

"On the house," he replies, thinking how much she's like her brother as she hunches over the cone and picks at it.

"Do you know why I was run off the road?" He tries to pretend he didn't know the question was coming. When he doesn't answer, Mary stands up. Her eyes are stony, like McGarrett's, and he feels a lump form in his throat.

"Word on the underground is your brother's been taken by a  _maika'i 'ole 'uhane_ , a bad spirit. Other than that, you'll have to talk to the police. My ear will be on the street for you, pretty sistah."

"But you can't help me." Mary sighs and sits down to poke at the melting dessert. She finally takes a bite, and Kamekona nods approvingly. Then he sits down next to her and throws an arm around her shoulder when she starts crying silently.

A few moments later, Kono drops into the seat across from them, a stack of photographs held against her chest.

Mary nods, "Is that what you wanted me to look at?"

Kono smiles and hands them to her, taking the remainder of the shave ice and eating it in large bites. Mary spreads out the photos, arranging them until she has the message in order, then she grabs a pen and a notepad from Kamekona's pockets. She works quickly, scribbling and crossing out half-written words that make no sense to Kamekona. He leaves them at the table while he goes to his kitchen to get more sweets for Kono.

When he returns, Kono's in his seat, and she and Mary are murmuring, heads together, following Mary's completed translation.

"McGarrett leave that for you?" He says more to announce his presence than to know if the reddish smears were left by the _haole_ -native. He glances at Mary's notes and sees a lot of Pidgin waiting to be spoken. "That come from the message?"

"Yes," Kono says. "Mary noticed a pattern marking these letters separate from the rest of the message. Do you know what it says?"

Kamekona reads silently, moving his lips as the words turn into letters and reform into new words. Whatever McGarrett was trying to say, he didn't say it very well. "I don't know what he means," he finally says, handing the paper back to Mary. "He wrote 'the greatest enemy was once a friend' and 'a mirror reflects what we want or don't want to see, never what we need to see.' That means nothing to me. How 'bout you?"

Kono looks up from the photos to find him staring at her. "Um," she says, "I think it's another code. What do you think?"

"I think—" Mary sighs, interrupting herself. "I think Kono's right, and it's a code." She ducks her head to examine the Pidgin again, comparing it to Kamekona's translation. "I think it also has something to do with Five-Oh's cases. Maybe."

"Or Joe White," Kono supplies. "'Greatest enemy' and 'once a friend.' I'll go update Danny and Chin." She stands up, and Mary does too. "You should come with me. Just in case that whacko comes back."

Mary nods, carefully picking up all the pictures and notes, while Kono helps Kamekona finish off the melted desserts.

"We'll find him," Kono says. "I promise you we will."

"I hope so," Mary says, hugging Kamekona before she climbs into the passenger seat of Kono's little car. "I really hope so."

"Hey, come with," Kono says, opening the backseat for Kamekona to squeeze his big-boned body into. "If that guy from the van saw you, you might be in danger too."

"Okay, little sistah," Kamekona says. His business is doing well enough right now that he can afford to lose one day of business. As long as it's just one, he thinks. He really hopes they find McGarrett and soon.

* * *

Wo Fat finally runs out of needles and knives. He glances down at the barely-conscious McGarrett, sourly noting that McGarrett still refuses to answer anything satisfactorily.

McGarrett's breathing is irregular, full of soft whimpers and short cries of pain. He's got a couple of steak knives, cheap little things, melted into his arms, along with five needles in each finger of the left hand. His stomach is scored by a hot butter knife Wo Fat ran over his flesh. The physical torture is not persuasive enough. Oh, certainly McGarrett is in pain, but he still refuses to say anything, and he has actually resorted to stating his rank and serial number over and over again. It's time to switch tactics.

Such a shame, Wo Fat thinks. He is almost a worthy opponent.

Ah, well. He must adapt to the situation presented or risk losing the information he desperately seeks.

With a shrug that's not quite indifferent, he reaches out to cut McGarrett's pants.

"I thought you said I had six hours," McGarrett rasps, voice scratchy and cracking. "It hasn't been two yet."

"You wish to continue this method that attacks your body, why? It will only lead to your death." Wo Fat uses pliers to remove the knife from McGarrett's left arm. Although the wound itself is cauterized, blood still weeps from where the blade had been. "If you want me to continue this method for the full six hours, your heart will become overtaxed and you will die before I achieve what I want." Calmly, he removes the knife in the right arm, and McGarrett grunts in pain.

The needles leave drops of blood on his fingers as they are pulled out, but McGarrett doesn't make any more noise. His eyes glaze over, unfocused and drifting slightly, as Wo Fat slices off his boxer shorts.

Wo Fat picks up McGarrett's penis and rolls it in his hands. It begins firming, hardening, as he carefully tugs on it. So gentle compared to his previous groping.

Earlier, when collecting the utensils for the torture, he had also grabbed a duffle bag filled with his sexual torture devices. He searches through it quickly, locating the specialty bag. From the bag, he pulls a thin metal rod and a large speculum. While McGarrett pants through his erection, face set so sternly his forehead creases thickly, Wo Fat slips the metal blades of the speculum between his lips.

"This is the only consideration you will receive," Wo Fat says, pulling and pushing the handle so the device rocks in McGarrett's mouth. "We'll see how you've done." He rips it out and sets it against McGarrett's rectum.

"No," McGarrett says sharply, like he expects to be obeyed. Wo Fat doesn't stop, slides the blades in centimeter by centimeter, relishes the way it drags through the soft tissue, settles deep into McGarrett's channel. Then he opens it.

"Stop, please stop," McGarrett begs, writhes on the device, cries out as it slips in until the handle stops it. The erection is gone, flagged by the sudden spike of pain. Wo Fat is unconcerned. He can put the rod in now and re-erect McGarrett, and it will be more painful.

No lubrication, not even spit, makes its way onto the rod before Wo Fat puts it against McGarrett's piss-slit. Instead of continuing to beg, McGarrett falls silent as the rod is pushed into him. Even when Wo Fat increase the speed and depth at which he is inserting the sound, McGarrett makes no noise.

This is not good.

Angered, he shoves on the speculum, forcing the handle hard against the sphincter and the testes above. McGarrett arches with it, gasping as the pain increases for a terrible minute.

"Who is Shelburne?" Wo Fat twists the speculum, calm again now that McGarrett is releasing small whimpers of pain.

"I don't know. No one's told me."

There is truth in McGarrett's eyes, truth in his voice. Wo Fat spins the speculum again anyway. Then he moves away from the bed. McGarrett's eyes follow him as he leaves the room. He returns shortly with a lamp, a simple bulb attached to a pole with a wide, circular base. It's off right now, but he'd turned it on before he started torturing McGarrett. It is very hot.

The base is removable, and the pole is sectioned, and Wo Fat takes off pieces until he's left with the bulb on a two-foot stick with a thread-covered grip. The plug remains attached, and it dangles, thumping against the floor with an indiscernible rhythm. He checks the speculum, cranking it open a few more notches while McGarrett begins fighting his bonds again.

"Don't do it," McGarrett says, voice tight with fear. "Please, man, I don't have the information you want. I can't help you even if you do this. Please stop. Stop! Stop!"

Wo Fat doesn't stop. He can barely hear McGarrett anyway. His concentration is great, watching the way McGarrett's hole tries and fails to close on the speculum. He places the bulb inside McGarrett's rectum, shoving it in and forcing it deep. Distantly, he hears McGarrett screaming and smells his burning flesh. He focuses on the way the grip bites into his palm before pulling the bulb out. He waits a few seconds, barely aware that McGarrett has stopped screaming, and then he pushes it back in.

Rape has always been an unpleasant thing for Wo Fat, but his father taught him well. McGarrett breaks when he plugs the lamp in.

"Shelburne was my mother. She died in a car explosion when I was fifteen. You killed her. You've already got your revenge."

"No, Shelburne is still alive," Wo Fat says. He thinks back to when his own father was killed—an assassin shooting the man at Wo Fat's engagement party. He'd set the car bomb for Mrs. McGarrett because the cop they'd gotten to investigate was not doing as good of a job as he should. He'd meant to kill the cop's kids too, but he'd met Mary McGarrett, an innocent child grieving for the parent torn from her, and he'd let them live. Obviously, it was a mistake since this McGarrett has done nothing but interfere with his business since coming back to the island.

"Shelburne is dead," McGarrett reasserts, eyeing the lamp that is still heating up, and still stuck in him. "You think my own mother would fake her death and run away from her responsibilities?"

"My mother was the same."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot points needed for story:
> 
> Steve admits (under torture) that Shelburne is his mother but that she already died in the car explosion meant for his father.
> 
> Wo Fat asserts that she is still alive, having faked her death. He claims his mother did the same and that is how he knows.


	5. Chapter Four

* * *

Chin looks over the choice of lunch Sergeant Lukela dropped off for Five-Oh. There are sandwiches and wraps and a whole pizza. Bottles of water are crowded onto a corner of the table, and it's one of these that Chin grabs.

Danny wanders in, sees the food, and turns to the water too. His face, Chin notes, is gray and drawn. And, if there was a mirror here, Chin thinks he'd look about the same. They've only been working on this case for seven hours straight now.

"I don't know why they thought we'd be able to eat right now," Danny says, dropping into one of the chairs and letting his head fall back. Chin sits across from him, trying to ignore the way his coffee-filled stomach hates the smell of tuna fish sandwiches and greasy pepperoni pizza. They sip their water in tandem, progressively drooping closer to the table to rest.

Then a whirlwind named Kono Kalakaua breezes in, grabs a couple bottles of water and some of the pizza. Following her and grabbing a sandwich, thankfully not tuna, is Mary McGarrett. Following Mary is Kamekona, and he drags the rest of the food to the table. Danny grumbles, but steals one of the sandwiches—tuna—and takes a small bite before inhaling the rest.

"Mary figured out Steve's message," Kono says suddenly, pizza halfway to her mouth. "'The greatest enemy was once a friend. A mirror reflects what we want or don't want to see. Joe, leave Mary out of this. It's our business.' Then there's some address that we couldn't quite figure out. We figure it's coded using some cases we've all worked on."

"Do we have any idea where to start?" Danny says, stealing another sandwich—not tuna—and tossing it to Chin. Kamekona only looks slightly put out that his mountain of eats keeps shrinking on him.

"No," Kono says through a mouthful of pizza at the same time Mary says, "Maybe."

Chin gestures at Mary, and she grins. "I think the mirror might be an interrogation room. I mean, it's a two-way mirror, right? So it shows the suspect only what they want to see."

"Or what they don't want to see."

"That's…really vague," Danny says. "Are you sure that is what he wrote?"

"No, brah," Kamekona says, leaning back in his chair so Kono can pass a bottle of water to Mary. "It's what made the most sense out of his phononic Latin."

"Phonetic Latin," Kono corrects. "He wrote the message in phonetic Latin, but his hidden message was in Pidgin."

"Glad he has so much faith in us," Danny growls.

"He does," Chin says. "He wrote it in phonetic Latin for Mary, and Pidgin for Kamekona. The message is for all of us, not just Five-Oh. Think, everyone, what have all of us done together?"

"We cleaned out that storage locker," Mary says. "Y'know, my parents' one."

"That's right!" Kono exclaims just a little too brightly. "The one you guys gave us all one thing from. I got those little tiki surfboards."

"I got our parents' wedding china."

Danny smiles and points to his watch. "Later, he gave me an old stuffed owl for Grace." He remembers Grace hugging the ratty thing, happy simply because her Danno gave her something of Uncle Steve's.

"He made Joe take an old jewelry box," Chin says quietly. "It had a mirror in it."

"Maybe that's it." Danny leans forward, clapping his hands once. "He said mirror, right? It's a clue, it's gotta be."

"Do you know where Joe is?" Mary stares at all of them, Kamekona included. She reads their expressions, lingering on Chin. "Do you know how to find him?"

"Maybe," Chin says, returning her stare. He stands up and walks to Steve's office, ignoring the others as they clean up the remains of lunch. Five minutes later, because Steve is such a sneaky bastard and doesn't trust anyone fully, he has what he needs from the safe under Steve's desk and is waiting at the data table when the others join him.

He shows them a jump drive that he plugs into a port. He pulls up maps and tracking data. Danny looks at it for a few seconds before groaning as he drops his head into his hands. Chin ignores him and pulls up real-time tracking.

"Is this GPS?" Mary asks. "On Joe?"

"Yes," Danny says from behind his hands. "Somehow Steve put a marker on him. And Chin knew about it. Why do you know about it?"

"He told me after he stopped trusting Joe. I was the one to suggest tagging him. We used the music box." Chin moves the maps so they overlap. "Notice where he visited?"

"Isn't that Fred Durran's ex-girlfriend's place?" Danny leans forward and stares at the address. "Why's he stopping there?"

"That's where he's living right now," Chin says. "How'd you know that's where Durran's ex lives?"

"Who's Durran?" Mary whispers to Kono.

"He was an arms dealer Danny shot the first day he and Steve teamed up. It's in their reports."

"So why is Joe living with her?"

"She bit me," Danny says to Chin, like they haven't been eavesdropping on the conversation. "I like to make sure the people who hurt my family or me are where they're supposed to be."

"I think I know who she is," Kamekona speaks finally, and they all turn to where he's trying to get comfortable in chair far too small for a man of his size. "She's a low-runner. A messenger. One time, and you didn't hear it from me, she got mixed up in some really bad stuff. I helped her, and she said her uncle'd help her pay me back. I saw the uniform on that _haole_ and I ran."

"So, you think Joe's her uncle?" Danny asks.

Chin, though, thinks Danny's got the wrong conclusion. He sorts through the girl's personal photos, uploaded to HPD's server after her arrest and Durran's death. He finds the picture he needs and puts it on the front screen. Beside him, Kono gasps and murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like a curse.

"Yep," Chin says. "Her uncle isn't Joe White."

"It's Lieutenant Commander Wade Gutches," Danny finishes.

"Do we talk to him about her? About Joe?" Mary says. "I mean, they're connected, aren't they?"

"Yeah, maybe," Chin says, but he's not holding his breath. He knows Joe dropped the box off and disappeared again. Probably with Gutches's help, but how are they supposed to question him without leverage?

"Hey," Danny says suddenly. "What did you guys read the address from Steve's message as?"

Kono consults her notes. "4678 Kahala Avenue," she says, and Chin stares at her, noticing that Danny's doing the same.

"You sure?" Danny sounds like he's choking on something. Kono nods, and Danny spits out a curse. "I told you it wasn't a coincidence."

"Yes, you did," Chin agrees. "Follow," he says to Kono and heads toward his office, Danny trailing after. As soon as she shuts the door, he says, "That's the address of a house that was burned earlier today."

"It's not a coincidence," Danny puts in. "We don't know if Steve was there, but HPD has asked for our help on the case."

"We're supposed to hear back from Fong about trace taken from the scene in a couple hours, but we need to find Joe soon if we want more answers."

"So, we should talk to Commander Wade's niece," Kono says, but Danny shakes his head.

"Duke told us they have an undercover officer watching her. We're supposed to contact him."

"Let's do this," she says.

* * *

As soon as Joe White realized Steve had that damned music box bugged, it was too late. Wade's niece had already taken the information regarding his little side-trip to Japan to Wo Fat, with the very strong insinuation he'd taken Steve to see Shelburne.

Then she'd drugged Joe and locked him in a boat on the Ala Wai Marina. Her new boyfriend, still as scum-baggy as her ex, Durran, had taken the boat out and let it drift away while he rowed away.

Now, the drugs have worn off, and Joe's already kicked his way onto the upper desk. He thanks the lazy butt who took him out because the moron left him half a tank to get back to shore, which is still in sight.

There's still daylight when Joe makes it to the marina. Almost immediately, he finds the scumbag boyfriend hiding behind a stacked wall of crates. A quick hand has the boyfriend at his mercy, but he still leans down to listen when the boyfriend asks for him to believe him.

"My name is Samuel Kale, I'm an officer with the state police of Idaho."

"Idaho?" Joe says, skepticism thick in his voice. "Like the potato?"

"Yes," Samuel says, frowning slightly. "I transferred to Honolulu PD half a year ago. It was kept under wraps so I could do some undercover work for my bosses. Me being new and all."

"So, how'd you get mixed up with Jeanette?"

"She's a messenger in the underworld. HPD figured she could get my foot in a lot of people's doors. Now, I need to talk to you in private."

"And where do you suggest we do that?"

"How about Five-Oh headquarters? They're looking for you anyway."

Joe squints up at the darkening sky before shaking his head. "They want answers from me, ones I can't give."

"Just come with me," Samuel says. "It won't hurt you to help find McGarrett."

McGarrett? Steve's missing?" Joe grabs Samuel by his collar and shoves him against the crates. "Who took him?"

"We don't know, but he left a message for you. That's why we need to get you to Five-Oh."

"Okay." Joe lets Samuel down and rubs his hands over his eyes. "Okay, let's go."

* * *

Danny receives a call from Duke Lukela regarding the transfer from Idaho who's bringing in Joe White. Danny does a happy dance, which just sorts of looks like him having an upright seizure. He doesn't care. It's the first good news they've had all day—not that Mary and Kamekona's translation of Steve's message hasn't been good itself.

He shakes off the thought and runs to tell the rest of the team.

ETA is less than ten minutes, and he's bouncing from his office to the data-table to the break room and back. His circuit takes him past Kamekona and Mary holed up in Kono's office and Kono and Chin, who are hiding any evidence they don't want Joe to see. Danny would help them, but he can't get his feet to stop moving long enough to do anything more than brush past the cousins.

Eventually, his marching feet take him to the front door where he catches sight of Idaho—a blond haired, blue-eyed, scrawny-looking kid probably barely old enough to drink—and Joe. Before he's quite aware of it, he's got Joe's shoulders clenched and he's shaking him, but there are no words coming from his open mouth. Joe shakes him off and stares around the room. Looking for escape routes, Danny's sure.

"What's this message Steve left for me?" Joe almost sounds smug, like he thinks they need him.

Danny draws in a deep breath to tell him exactly what they need him to do when Chin shakes his head, and Kono moves to a side table covered with photographs of the message. Joe glances at all of them, reading their hardened expressions, and joins Kono at the table. Danny most definitely doesn't smirk to himself when Joe double-takes at the first picture.

"Is that blood?"

"Yeah, Steve's. Do you recognize the address?" Danny points to it, but Joe's already shaking his head. "It was recently torched. Know anything about that?"

"No. Why would I?"

"You know who took him?"

"I have an idea. Don't you?" Joe stares at Danny, and Danny feels his stomach sink.

"Chin," he calls as knots tie themselves together in his intestines. "Call Halawa Correctional. See if Wo Fat is still there."

Joe nods.

Chin makes the call and speaks with the warden for a brief moment before hanging up. "They're checking now," he says. "They've had him in their count consistently, so they think it's unlikely that he escaped."

"Could he be using a body double?" Kono wonders.

"It's more likely he paid off some of the guards or even the warden," Joe replies.

Chin's phone rings before anyone can offer any more theories. "Lieutenant Kelly." He listens for half a minute before thanking the caller and hanging up. "The warden says they're going into lockdown. Wo Fat isn't in his cell, and no one's seen him since yesterday evening."

"The night Steve went missing," Kono says.

"That bastard!" Danny punches the wall twice. "That fucking bastard! He's going to kill Steve. He's going to fucking kill him, and we can't do a damn thing for him."

"Maybe I can do something," Joe says, and Danny commends himself on his self-restraint for not punching the snake in the nose. "He must have eyes on that address—" he stabs at it with a sharp finger, "—if I show up and wait there, he should set up a meeting."

"That's a pretty big if," Chin murmurs. "Meanwhile, we think he may continue to torture Steve."

"Wait," Mary says from the doorway of Kono's office. "Torture? My brother is being tortured? Who is this Wo Fat character?"

"He's the man who took Steve," Danny says, avoiding her glare. He doesn't need her anger on top of his guilt. None of them do. "He took him once before. We had to get him from North Korea."

"Is he really going to kill my brother?" Mary ducks her head quickly, but they all see the tears.

"Not if we have anything to say about it." Kono looks determined, strong. Never mind that she's fighting back her own tears.

They pause to let her words sink in. They are Steve's only hope, this rag-tag group of cops and civilians. And, Danny thinks, they will succeed. Failure is not an option. "Let's get you geared up," he says to Joe. "Idaho?" The kid, who's been waiting patiently, snaps to attention with a curt 'Yes sir.' "You're his shadow. Do not, emphasis on the do not, let him out of your sight at all."

"Sir, yes sir." Idaho actually salutes him before leading Joe to the equipment room.

"Kono, we're going to need someone who's handy with electronics and a sniper rifle to watch all access points at that address."

"Good luck, Danny," she says and hugs him before she runs off to get suited up too.

"Chin, you're with me. Let's try to retrace Steve and Wo Fat's steps last night."

"I'll take Wo Fat. You know Steve better."

"Will do."

* * *

 


	6. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STOP!!
> 
> This chapter starts with Wo Fat still torturing Steve. There is rape at the start and then violence throughout the section. The first paragraph can be skipped.

* * *

Wo Fat leaves the lamp plugged in with the bulb shoved deep in McGarrett's rectum while he goes to the cramped kitchen to wait for McGarrett to stop screaming. It has become increasingly evident that McGarrett knows very little of his father's world. Wo Fat doesn't even know if McGarrett's admission that his mother is Shelburne is true or not.

While he waits, he cooks another meal. Store bought biscuits and homemade fruit salad. Neither one is appealing, and Wo Fat is happy to be interrupted by a banging on the door. He only answers when Jeanette Dawson, his outside man, identifies herself and says she has information regarding Joe White's whereabouts.

From the bedroom, McGarrett's screams continue. Jeanette looks puzzled at the sounds, but she ignores them when Wo Fat asks her to join him in the kitchen.

"You gave Joe White the compound?"

She nods, hand hovering over the plate of biscuits. He tilts his head forward briefly, and she snatches one. "I slipped it in our food. I didn't eat anything. I haven't eaten since then." She rips the insides out and rolls them into balls she puts in her mouth. "I had my boyfriend, Pete, take him out in a boat."

"What precautions did you take so he cannot escape?" Wo Fat knows something has gone wrong. He doesn't quite understand what it is yet, and cannot explain why he thinks such a thing, but there is no mistaking the icy feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Was there a way off the boat?"

"No," Jeanette scoffs, stuffing the exterior of the biscuit in her mouth and chewing loudly for a short while. "Not unless he broke out of the hold and jumped overboard. He's safe."

Wo Fat clenches his fists. The icy feeling solidifies into outright fear. She should have killed him. In fact, he'd told her to incapacitate the man once the boat was at sea. The compound, the same thing the dead waitress had given McGarrett, would wear off. If she didn't secure Joe White, then he can assume Joe White is already back on shore. Because of her stupidity, and he entertains no ideas that she really isn't that idiotic, Joe White might just be free enough to escape his clutches again.

McGarrett's noises from the bedroom stop suddenly. Wo Fat glares at Jeannette to get her to stay still while he goes to investigate. He is expecting to see an unconscious Steve McGarrett. Instead, he gets a Steve McGarrett who is fully conscious and free from his bonds. He goes for his gun, shoved into the back of his pants, and McGarrett rams into him, grappling for the weapon. They fight, slamming into walls and scratching each other.

They break apart and Wo Fat kicks McGarrett in the stomach, rolling him over to find McGarrett's got the gun trained on him.

"Bye," McGarrett whispers, voice hoarse from screaming, and pulls the trigger. Wo Fat stumbles back. He avoids serious injury, but his side burns, and he glances down to see blood soaking through his shirt.

When he looks up, McGarrett is gone. He steps into the hall and catches sight of McGarrett's bloodied back disappearing into the alcove of the kitchen and front door.

Jeanette screams, and Wo Fat runs to her, noting the still-closed front door. As he reaches her, the butter knife he'd used to scrape the biscuits off the pan stabs into his arm, heat and pain follow. He yells and throws himself backward, head smashing into McGarrett's face.

"I'll kill you," McGarrett hisses, and Wo Fat feels blood from either his mouth or nose spray onto his cheek. "You're dead." Hands wrap around Wo Fat's neck and squeeze.

He fights, bucks, tries to throw off McGarrett. He comes close to passing out, explosions of black dots blurring his vision before Jeanette comes to his rescue by hitting McGarrett over the head with a heavy skillet.

Wo Fat refuses her help as he stands up. She's a loose end, one that has already started to unravel. He picks up the gun, checking the magazine, noting the only bullet missing is the one McGarrett fired. Even before he clicks the safety off and points it at Jeannette, she senses something is wrong and turns to run. He fires twice, and her body lands against the table, knocking dishes and food to the floor.

She's dead before he checks on her, fingers pressed to the hollow of her throat.

He turns back to McGarrett, contemplating his crumpled body. Blood covers his face, still dribbling from his right nostril. Where the skillet impacted is a bloody lump. His wrists are chaffed to bleeding marks, and his ankles aren't much better. He's still naked, and the evidence of the torture is horrific.

Wo Fat leans down, presses two fingers to his pulse point, and breathes out sharply when he feels the sluggish beat of his heart. He picks him up, one arm under his knees, the other wrapped around his shoulders. McGarrett shifts then, mouth opening as he moans softly.

Wo Fat kicks open the door and marches down the steps. McGarrett isn't any lighter than he was at his house, but he seems easier to carry. He does not wake up when he's set in the back of the van. Wo Fat secures him with a series of handcuffs and rope. Even if Steve McGarrett were healthy, he would still have trouble escaping. Wo Fat isn't sure how he managed to free himself in the bedroom, but it's obvious he's underestimated his target severely.

He returns to the house and locates the butane torch and the gas can he'd stashed in the back bedroom. It takes seconds to douse Jeanette in the kitchen and the bed McGarrett had been on. It takes even less time to throw the empty gas can into the middle of the kitchen and chuck the jimmied torch after it.

He jogs back to the van, the heat of the growing fire at his back. He smiles as he relaxes into the driver's seat. He has locations. He has time. Even if Joe White is free and escapes, McGarrett's subconscious may hold all the answers. His mother may bear looking into. All Wo Fat has to do is keep unlocking the doors little Steven has closed in his mind.

The van rattles as he pulls out of the trailer park. McGarrett's body doesn't move even with the bump onto pavement. Behind them, the rest of the house catches fire. No evidence to follow. No loose ends there. Wo Fat smiles again, accelerating.

He has the perfect place for the next stage.

* * *

Niko Pokani-Puka has worked at Halawa Correctional for ten years now. He's been on Wo Fat's payroll for seventeen.

It doesn't take Five-Oh long to corner him and determine he's the weak link. Detective Williams blusters his way through a threat, but Niko can tell he doesn't have the balls to do anything. Which is about the time Detective Williams smashes his nose with his gun.

"' _Ilio wahine_ ," Niko spits. Detective Kelly raises an eyebrow. "What? Bastard probably broke my nose."

"If you're lucky, that's all I'm going to do," Williams says. "You've been the only guard down here for the last six headcounts. We know you helped Wo Fat escape."

"If you're so sure, talk to my lawyer," Niko says. He's not worried about what Five-Oh can do to him legally. He's just afraid that his failure will get back to Wo Fat, and he'll be capped before anyone can do anything else to him.

"Why is Wo Fat targeting Steve McGarrett?"

"Lawyer," Niko says. "I want my lawyer."

"Fine," Kelly says, and they move away. They leave him in the blue room for ten minutes before Kelly comes back to tell him his lawyer's on her way.

It's another twenty-five minutes before a lawyer arrives, whirlwind of heady perfume and a gilded business card declaring her name as Shannon Triste. She's a small Asian woman with a severe bun and a thousand dollar dress-suit, and Niko feels less threatened than he probably should. There's a reason she was called instead of his cousin Marko. She's not in the room for five minutes, chattering about his liability before she grabs him in a chokehold and forces a capsule into his mouth.

He fights. Oh, how he fights, but the capsule was pre-weakened and it breaks apart the first time he accidently closes his teeth on it. A bitter taste floods his mouth and he chokes on it. He dies less than twenty seconds later.

* * *

"Great," Danny says to Max when Max confirms that their lead to Wo Fat died of cyanide poisoning.

"Are you certain the lawyer had nothing to do with it?" Max asks, curiosity spiked. He points to scratches around the man's mouth, and Danny nods.

"She said she tried to get it out, but I don't believe her. We can't hold her though," he continues.

"Does this impact Commander McGarrett's survival?" Max jumps when Danny slams his hand into the wall.

"I don't fucking know," he growls, and Max can sympathize. He doesn't know either.

"Hey, we've got the op ready," Chin says, pulling Danny away. "We can't prove the lawyer's involvement," he says to both of them, "but we're not letting Wo Fat get away with it."

"Good luck with your operation," Max says, and then the door is shut and he is alone with Niko Pokani-Puka. "Let me see what you have left to reveal," he says to the body.

* * *

Joe is in position, leaning against an adjacent building and observing the still-smoldering remains of 4678 Kahala Avenue. Above him, hidden in a small pocket of roof, Kono sights along her sniper rifle. Next to her is a receiver, and she scrolls through the channels, listening to the blips of people's cell phone conversations. They have been here for nearly two hours, and they have nothing to show for it.

"Should we pack it in?" Joe's voice is tinny in her ear, and she almost dismisses it as another useless convo.

"A few more minutes," she says, using her scope to scan the area again. She notices a man walk past Joe and make a hand signal. Almost immediately, a convo comes through the radio.

_"_ _I got him, boss,"_  says a whispery male voice.  _"He's just waiting there. He's been here for a couple hours."_

The response is low and unclear. Kono searches the bystanders until she finds a man hiding behind a palm tree a few buildings down. He's got a silver phone pressed to his ear and he's dressed like a tourist. He's _haole_ , with light brown hair.

Using a camera mount, she takes several pictures of his face and body, relative to objects around him. She'll send them to Chin so he can compare this man with the pictures the fire department took of the crowd. Then, she finds the other man and takes pictures of him too.

"Kono?" Joe says, and she realizes she hasn't updated him yet.

"Sit tight. One guy at your four o'clock called someone about you. There's another guy walking around keeping an eye on you."

"Any idea what they're planning?"

"Shh," she replies.

_"_ _Do I give him the message, boss? Or do you want him brought to you? Right, as I thought. See you soon."_

"Joe, get out of there." Kono tracks the man with the silver phone as he moves away. She locates the other man again, cursing inwardly as he approaches Joe from his blind side. "They're going to take you."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Joe says. "At least we'd know where Steve is."

"We don't know if they're going to take you to Steve. All I heard was they're taking you to their boss."

"So be it." The man without a phone jumps on Joe's back, pushing him against the wall and pinning him while his cohort runs up to stab Joe with a hypodermic needle. All Kono can do is watch through her scope and take pictures as Joe is knocked out by the drug in the syringe and dragged to a red Ford Taurus.

She calls Chin as she activates the tracker they'd fitted Joe with. "They got Joe. I'm sending you the tracking data. I need you to be my navigator."

"You got it, cuz."

By the time she makes it to her car, the Taurus is out of sight. Chin directs her, and she catches up to them at their hideout—a deserted parking lot. As she drives by, shades covering half her face, she notices a white van pull into the lot.

The driver steps out, and she fights to not turn around for a better look.

"Chin, it's Wo Fat. He's at Joe's location. I can't go by again."

"Idaho's gonna do a sweep by," Danny says through the radio at her side. "Hopefully, they won't notice."

Kono eases into a parking spot in front of a gas station a block down from the lot. Samuel Kale passes her and slides past the meeting area.

"They're transferring Joe White to the back of the van. There is a bloody body already in there."

Kono climbs out of her car and hurries into the building, ducking beneath a rack of day-old donuts to spy on the van. Kale pulls a u-turn and heads to the same station as her. He parks at a pump and starts a gas flow. The leader, Wo Fat, definitely Wo Fat, points at Kale before getting back into the van and merging seamlessly into the light traffic. The other men run to their vehicle and gun the engine.

"You've been marked, Kale. Get the hell out of there!"

Kale manages to get back in his car before the Taurus rams into his car.

"We need backup!" Kono screams into her radio, gun out, already racing to where the men are. Kale has his gun ready too, even though he's trapped inside his vehicle.

Danny's Camaro roars into the gas station, stopping short of the Taurus. Danny and Chin pop out, Danny's H&K P30 trained on the driver and Chin's Benelli M1 pointed at the passenger.

"Five-Oh!" Danny yells. "Weapons down!"

The men obey, and Kono, still shaking, cuffs them. Kale crawls out of his car, shaking first Chin's then Danny's hands. He hugs Kono tight before walking into the gas station.

"Hey, Idaho! Where you headed?"

"Got to pay for my gas. Can't give the citizens a bad example."

"I like him," Danny says, and his smile is there even if it doesn't reach his eyes. "Now, let's take care of this trash so we can get Steve and Joe back."

"Amen," Chin says.

"Amen," Kale echoes, back from his detour already. "By the way, who's giving me a ride?"

* * *

Joe wakes up to a dry mouth and a pounding headache. He also wakes up to three metal cuffs on each arm and leg and a whole hell of mess of ropes across his torso. He can barely move. It's also mostly dark.

Plus, there is something heavy pressing on his side. He cranes his neck, cursing the stiffness he encounters, and catches sight of Steve's head. There's not enough light to see anything other than Steve's face partially turned into Joe's side.

The floor beneath them rocks gently, and Joe determines they're in a moving vehicle. Joe rocks with it, feeling himself drift off despite his uncomfortable position. Steve mumbles incoherently, whispering soft, breathy notes that sound like pleas. A sudden jolt has Steve crying out in pain, and Joe jerks fully awake. He manages to rotate his wrist until he can pat Steve's shoulder. Hot, sweaty skin meets his fingers, and he has to force himself not to recoil. He knows torture was talked about, but to have the evidence under his hand is sickening.

The brakes of the vehicle squeal as it stops. The door slamming is muffled, and Joe realizes there is a partition between the front seats and the back. They're in a van. He tenses as footsteps marching across what sounds like gravel file past them and turn to stop at the rear doors.

Joe feigns sleep as the doors are ripped open, the late afternoon sun too bright through his lids. Before he is uncuffed, the driver stabs him in the thigh with something sharp. He opens his eyes in time to see Wo Fat push down on the plunger of hypodermic needle. Then, Wo Fat reaches over his body to free Steve, who fights weakly.

Consciousness fades out as Steve begins screaming, something primal and hurt in his voice but no discernible words. Joe doesn't want to know why because the last image he sees before his eyes slide closed is Steve's naked back and buttocks covered in drying blood.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter Six

* * *

The ice pack is mostly melted, but Samuel keeps it pressed to his shoulder. He's probably freezing the tissue, which is bad, but it's finally numb.

He looks up when a pretty woman with short blonde hair drops into the seat across from him. She offers a trembling smile as a giant man lumbers into the room and leans against the doorway. Samuel scopes the man, noting the way he keeps his thick arms crossed over his chest. He's there as an enforcer, Samuel decides.

He looks back at the woman and then glances at the photographs crowding the desktop. He recognizes all the people of Five-Oh, even Commander McGarrett. The woman's face matches the commander's even if her nose is a little shorter, her eyes brown instead of green, and her mouth wider.

Mary McGarrett clears her throat, and Samuel notices the drawn look of her face and the way she twists her hands together. Samuel trades the ice pack for a box of tissues.

"I heard them talking," she says, tilting her head at the window where they can see the remaining members of Five-Oh huddled around the data-table. In case he missed her clue, the giant points helpfully without uncrossing his arms. "You saw my brother."

Samuel thinks about the bare legs he saw, remembering the blood painted onto the skin. He glances at another picture on the desk, one of the whole team at a beach somewhere. The legs in the van definitely match Commander McGarrett's.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I'm supposed to talk to you without a senior member nearby."

The giant steps forward and settles a hand on Samuel's injured shoulder. "The lady asked you a question, brah," he says, squeezing gently. "I suggest you answer it."

A quick look shows Five-Oh still going over the tracking data for Joe White. "Okay," Samuel says, relieved when the pressure on his shoulder disappears. "I saw your brother," he says to Mary. "He was injured. I can't tell you how bad because I didn't see all of him. I only saw his legs."

"Then how do you know it was Steve?"

"I have a photographic memory. I matched the legs I saw with one of the pictures here."

"How injured were his legs?"

"I don't know exactly. I couldn't see any wounds, but they were covered in blood, sort of like runoff from another injury. I'm sorry." Mary swallows a sob, but her eyes well up. Samuel pulls out a tissue to hand her. Then he looks at the giant, who is busy pretending not to notice that he's crying too. Samuel gives him a tissue too.

Abruptly, Kono runs into the room. "Kale, I need you to help Kamekona protect Mary. We've got a lead on where Wo Fat took them—it's a shed near the place where Steve rescued Mary from the Yakuza."

"And I need protection because?" Mary stands up. Her feet are apart and she's crushing the tissue in a fist.

"One of the cops we sent up there to keep surveillance reported Wo Fat ordered two more guns to pick up Mary."

"Why?" This time it's the giant—Kamekona—who sets his feet. "What are they planning to do to her?"

"Apparently Steve said something when they were torturing him." Kono shoots a worried look at Mary. "Wo Fat thinks your mother is Shelburne."

"She's been dead for twenty years. He's not getting his revenge there."

"Actually," Kono says, "we think she faked her death. When Danny was taken by the CIA, one of the agents slipped him a jump drive with the file of your mother's accident. They used a body double to disguise the fact that she went to ground right before the explosion."

"My mother was a spy?" Somehow, Samuel thinks, that news isn't as surprising to Mary as it should be.

"Yes."

Mary sits down. "There's nowhere safe, is there?"

Samuel takes her hands in his. "Do you believe Officers Kalakaua, Kelly, and Williams are capable of retrieving your brother?" Mary nods. "Do you trust Kamekona to guard you?" Again, she nods. "Do you trust me to do everything I can to make sure you'll be okay?" He sees her eyes flick to Kono before locking onto his again as she nods for a third time. "Good. I can't promise it will be completely safe, but it will be a whole lot safer than if we aren't with you."

"Okay," she says softly, pulling her hands free to wipe at her eyes. "Okay," she repeats, her voice stronger. "I'm ready."

* * *

At first, when he wakes up, there is no feeling, no sight. He thinks maybe he's at his aunt's house, or maybe even back home. So he tries to sit up, pain slamming him back down before he can do more than twitch. Tears leak from his eyes as he tries again. This time he manages to roll onto his side. The pain moves with him, spiking across his exposed back, throbbing in his temples, beating a steady thrum through all his extremities. He whimpers, the sound escaping in a thin stream of air pushed through his dry lips.

Steve's never felt so miserable.

A hand, warm and heavy drops onto his shoulder, and Steve's breath rushes out as the pain flares unbearably for a moment.

"Just breathe," a raspy voice hisses into his ear. It sounds like his commander on base, Joe White.

"Sir?" he whispers, unsure of whether Joe is real or imagined. Right now, he thinks he's a figment of his imagination.

"Easy, Steve." Joe keeps his hand clamped to his shoulder as he moves around the platform Steve's on so Steve can see him, and when did his sight return? "How are you feeling?"

"Not so good, sir." Steve notes the worry in Joe's eyes, thinks it's just a reflection of his subconscious.

The room is dimly lit and filled with unrelenting shadows. Nothing is visible too far from them, so Steve is surprised when a man of Korean descent steps up to his side. He didn't even hear the man's footsteps.

"Joe White." The man smiles at both of them. So Joe  _is_  real. "Will you tell me who Shelburne is?"

"Shelbourne's a town in Australia. Pretty this time of year. You should really think about visiting it."

The man's smile vanishes, and he clamps a hand on Steve's arm. "If you do not give me what I want," he flexes his fingers, scraping his nails over Steve's skin, "I will be forced to hurt your friend further."

"I can't give you anything I don't have," Joe shouts, lunging forward so the man lets go. "I can promise you this: touch him again, and I'll kill you."

The man pulls out a small handgun, cocking it as he maneuvers around Joe to press it to Steve's chest. "Who is Shelburne?"

"I don't know!"

The gun jerks but doesn't fire. "He said Shelburne was his mother. Is that true?"

"I don't know. I know nothing about Shelburne. This exercise you have going on isn't getting you anywhere."

"Wrong." The gun moves quickly, skimming over flesh until it's pressed to Steve's right knee. "Steve McGarrett is impeding my business." He fires the gun, stepping back as Joe runs at him. Steve screams when the pain registers, a few seconds after Joe tackles the man. He curls in on himself, hands grabbing at the wound. Dimly, he hears Joe and the man fighting near him.

The second gunshot is just as loud, and the pain is instantaneous. Steve can't scream anymore. His lungs are locked, and with every breath he tries to take, they spasm.

Iron fills his mouth when he finally coughs wetly. The gun goes off again, but it's the only thing Steve hears before he closes his eyes and lets his body sink into the darkness of unconsciousness. It's not complete, though, because Steve never stops feeling the pain.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mentions of *those* torture devices.

* * *

 Duke Lukela is ready for the day to be over. So far, though, even if it's almost twilight out, all officers are on duty.

He and a handful of others are assisting the fire department with another arson case. Unlike the first one, there is a body, but until the blaze is out, no one can do anything.

He puts in a call to Max Bergman anyway. He also notifies Detective Williams. As he hangs up, the fire chief finally declares the scene open and lets Duke and two others retrieve the body.

Max arrives before they even step out of the building. Things move quickly as Duke entrusts one junior officer to watch over Max while the rest of them begin grabbing statements from all the trailer park residents.

"She was killed before the fire," Max tells him when he checks on him. "Unfortunately, the damage is too extensive for me to give you her identity. I will update you after the autopsy."

"Thank you," Duke says. "I appreciate it."

Derrick Hayman, a _haole_ -native, approaches with a bag of things. Needles, the pipe and burst bulb of a lamp, and a steak knife's blade.

"Found these in the back room. Fire barely touched 'em." He points at the blood on them. "We'll have to ask the coroner if she's been tortured, but we could have another victim."

"This day isn't going to end any time soon enough," Duke sighs. "All right, take them to Fong. See if he can't tell us who bled on them."

Another officer approaches, a young pregnant woman in tow. "Sergeant? This lady says she saw who set the fire."

"It was a man, not a _haole_ , not a native. He looked Asian, not Chinese or Japanese, but kinda similar. He was hurt, there was blood on his shirt. He carried out another man, naked and bloody. Oh, the guy also had blood on his arm. I saw it when he came back outta the house."

"How long ago was this?" Duke leads her over to the back of a patrol car. She smiles gratefully as she lowers herself to the seat.

"It must've been about ten minutes before I called 9-1-1. I waited to make sure he wasn't coming back before I tattled on him."

"Thank you. One more question, did he see you?"

"Must not have. He had a gun in the back of his pants, but he didn't come after me."

"Thank you again. Officer Mahalo will take you to HPD for a full statement." Duke lets the officer pull away with the woman still sitting in the backseat. He needs to update Danny again. But, as soon as he pulls out his phone, Hayman returns, another evidence bag clutched in his gloved hand.

"Sergeant," he says, and Duke hears the shock and fear in his voice. Hayman hands him the bag. It's a speculum. A fully extended, bloodied speculum.

"We're gonna get this sonofabitch," he murmurs, turning the object over in his hands. He shoves it back at Hayman. "Make sure Five-Oh doesn't hear about this. I have to tell them myself."

"Yes, sir." Hayman reluctantly accepts the evidence bag back and leaves Duke alone again.

Oh hell. This never gets any easier, Duke thinks.

Williams answers on the first ring. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Detective Williams."

* * *

Chin briefs the SWAT team quickly, handing out shotguns loaded with tranquilizers. There's no way in hell he's letting them go in with live ammo. Steve's already suffered enough. Danny is not coming with them. He's working with paramedics instead, making sure they have absolutely everything they'll need to deal with something he refuses to tell the others.

Kono's also sitting this raid out. She's helping Kale guard Mary in case Wo Fat slips away from them.

Chin wishes a lot of things right now, but he can't think of a specific thing to focus on. He can't even concentrate on the whispered prayers to the ancients of the people around him.

He blinks, and they're pulling up to the wooded area around Wo Fat's safe house.. "Quietly, people," he says one last time before they disperse and the vehicles leave. Deep, slow breaths, Chin reminds himself as he slips through brush and trees. Easy, easy.

He's on the south side, nearest the back entrance when he hears the first gunshot. A few seconds later, a man starts yelling. Chin breaks into a sprint, stopping at the door as two more shots go off. The man is silent.

Chin's radio crackles. It's the offensive commander doing the countdown. When he reaches zero, team leaders kick open doors, while secondary leaders throw tear gas canisters into the room, and the third man up starts sweeping.

They find them in a room in the center of the shack. Steve is unconscious, covered in blood and naked. Joe White is doubled over, coughing even as a member of one of the teams gives him an oxygen mask.

Wo Fat is pinned beneath two of the biggest SWATs. He's also unconscious.

Chin moves to Steve, slipping another oxygen mask over his face. He tries to ignore the shock he feels when he notices blood on Steve's lips. Using gentle fingers, he checks the visible injuries on Steve's torso, swallowing convulsively at all the sear-marks covering Steve's chest.

Steve jerks suddenly, clawing at the mask. He's making soft, breathy noises of pain as he moves.

"Easy, Steve," Chin soothes, "easy, brah. You're safe now. We're friends." Steve's eyes crack open and he stares at Chin for a long moment with no recognition. Then, slowly, he smiles.

"About damn time, Chin," he says, voice muffled and strained, but damn if his smile isn't getting bigger. Chin feels tears burning his eyes, but he leans closer so he can whisper words of encouragement while he presses field bandages against the gunshot wounds.

The team of paramedics and Danny arrive, and Danny takes over for Chin as Steve is transferred to a gurney. Chin steps back to let them pass.

Someone finds the light switch and the building is flooded with sterile light. Where Steve was is splashed with streaks of red, but the rest of the room is clean. There aren't even any implements of torture here. Chin knows it, can't deny it. Wo Fat brought Steve here to kill him.

Shelburne should not be worth the path of destruction Wo Fat has wrought upon Hawaii and the McGarretts. Chin makes a promise to Steve, Mary, and himself: he is going to find out everything there is to know about Shelburne and he is going to hold Shelburne responsible for the hell Steve has just gone through.

* * *

Mary scrunches down into her chair. Although it is wide, the plastic keeps it from being very comfortable, and her priority right now is to keep her butt from going numb. Kono watches her as she shifts again. Steve's still in surgery with Five-Oh, Kamekona, and herself clogging the waiting room.

They've been here for almost eight hours now. No one's slept yet either.

Every so often, Danny's phone rings and he steps outside for a few minutes. When he comes back in, his mouth is set and his eyes are hard. Chin paces a long circuit, down the hall to the unisex bathrooms and back, avoiding everyone in the room.

Kono reads all the pamphlets and magazines multiple times, flicking through them quickly. Mary pretends, as they all do, that Kono's not wiping away tears.

Kamekona is the only one who looks normal, squeezed into a couch for three, "free food" heaped on his lap, a box of tissues handy as he watches a string of soaps and a movie that make the depressed air thicker.

Mary moves to another couch and curls under her jacket. Within minutes, she finally drifts off.

She only sleeps for a couple of minutes, because Danny shakes her awake. "Steve's doctor," he says.

She glances up at the woman smiling at her. "His surgery went well. He is strong and his recovery looks good."

"What was done to him?" Mary stands up, as she does she notices Danny's recoil from her question. The doctor's smile falters.

"Let's talk somewhere private," she says.

Mary shakes her head, "Whatever you've got to tell me, they can hear it too."

"Okay, please have a seat then."

Kamekona mutes the television as the others sit in chairs around him. Mary slips in next to him and he puts his arm around her.

"Commander McGarrett suffered extensive injuries to his back, torso, and left arm and hand. He has gunshot wounds to his right knee, left shoulder, and upper left thigh. He also has a mild concussion." She pauses, staring into Mary's eyes, "We also found evidence of rectal trauma."

"What?" Mary feels cold, feels her heart beating wildly. Rectal trauma? "Oh my god! That bastard raped him?" Kamekona hugs her tighter.

The doctor nods. "I'm sorry it happened. Right now, your brother is resting comfortably. You can sit with him tomorrow. For now, he's in a sealed recovery room."

"Infections?"

"Yes. He's doing well, but we don't want to put him at further risk today. He should be awake about mid afternoon, if you'd like to visit then. I only ask that you limit his visitors to family or trusted individuals during his stay here."

Mary nods mechanically. She's still stuck on the fact that Steve, her tough-love brother, was raped. How is Steve going to deal with it, she wonders.

The doctor leaves after a short discussion with Danny.

"How's about I take you home, little sistah?" Kamekona shifts her. "We'll go home, get some rest, and be back and ready for McGarrett when he wakes up."

"Danny?" Mary stands up, fingers clenched tight in Kamekona's sleeve. "Did you know about the…the rape? Before the doctor told us?"

Danny looks sad. He doesn't confirm or deny her question, but somehow, she knows he knew before the rest of them.

"It's okay," she tells him. "I'm not mad you didn't tell me. I just want to know: how do I talk to him? Do I change or do I stay the same?"

"You take your cues from Steve," Danny speaks after a long moment of silence. "You can get away with treating him with kid gloves for a little while because he's obviously injured, but if I know Steve, you're going to have to treat him as if nothing's happened. He'll tell you when he's ready. You have to wait for it—you can't push him."

"And how are you going to treat him?"

"I'm going to use him as my cues and then I probably won't treat him any differently than I do now."

"What happens if he wants to be treated differently now?" Mary accepts the tissues Kamekona shoves at her. She wipes at her eyes, glad her mascara is long gone. "I mean, what if I'm no good at reading his cues."

"You'll do fine," Chin finally speaks, and Mary looks at him, noting that he's a little gray. "As long as you do your best, and we'll be with you to help you every step of the way, you will be okay. Steve will be okay too. It might take a little while, but you've got your  _ohana_  right here."

"That's right," Kono adds, hugging her quickly. "We'll always be ready to help."

Danny grabs her hand, and the others lay their hands on top. "To  _ohana_ ," Danny says, and they all echo. And it might just be Mary's imagination, but it doesn't sound as hallow as she knows they all feel.

Kamekona leads her outside to his truck, delivered by a cousin he'd called when Kale dropped them off earlier, and Five-Oh trails after them. They spend a few minutes exchanging contact information, hugs, and plans before dispersing to their vehicles.

Mary cries when Kamekona takes her to Steve's house. It needs to be cleaned since the crime scene unit is done. She's mildly surprised when Danny and then Chin and Kono show up to help her clean while Kamekona cooks lunch. Mary falls asleep shortly after.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So ends Part I. Let me know if you see any mistakes or grievous missteps. Thank you!
> 
> (Original author's note that appeared on post)


	9. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight crossover with CSI: Miami (no prior knowledge necessary)

* * *

**~Two weeks later~**

Wo Fat has not smiled since he woke up in police custody. He's been cleared for prison again, and even his lawyer is pushing for him to be in solitary confinement.

This time he's got Governor Jameson's death, Jeannette Dawson's death, and the kidnapping, rape, and attempted murder of Steve McGarrett hanging over his head. The unlawful imprisonment of Joe White is laughable. And, yet, Wo Fat does not laugh. He sees no amusement in his predicament. He had cleared all the scenes of evidence against himself, except that last safe house, but still his interrogators have revealed unnamed sources pointing fingers at him.

His outside source, a more reliable one than Jeannette, tells him McGarrett is still in intensive care at Queens Medical Center. There's a twenty-four hour guard on the door, and all the visitors have to be known by hospital and guard staff, and even after that, visitors can be turned away by either Detective Williams or Mary McGarrett.

Wo Fat's source is not on anyone's list.

A guard walks by, glancing in to see if he's still in the cell. In fact, in addition to not smiling, he hasn't moved aside from the mandatory steps of prison life.

When he gets out of here, Steve McGarrett will die.

Of that, there is no doubt. Steven J. McGarrett must expire if Wo Fat is to continue living in this world.

"Visitor," another guard hits the bars to get his attention. It does not work. At least, the guard thinks it didn't, as he hits the bars again. It isn't until the guard shrugs and starts to turn away that Wo Fat stands up from his bunk and assumes one of the various positions they are always told to perform when a guard opens their doors.

Wo Fat thinks about killing this guard, a scrawny kid nearly twenty years younger. But, even as he prepares himself to jump, to reach forward and break the kid's neck, a glint from the balcony above his cell block checks him.

While the guards aren't allowed live ammunition, their rubber bullets sting, and sometimes stun. It's a chance Wo Fat cannot take right now, so he settles back into his robot-like movements, keeping his muscles tense, head up, eyes straight, no acknowledgement of the guards or other prisoners.

The kid leads him to the room his lawyer always meets him in, the glass between them is cloudy, and Wo Fat sees red streaks near the top.

So that's why they were in lockdown this morning. One of the inmates attempted to kill his visitor.

His lawyer does not look nervous to be sitting so close to a scene of carnage. In fact, his lawyer looks happy.

"I've convinced the judge to dismiss the eye witness testimony against you."

"Really," Wo Fat says. That means they don't have anything to tie him to Jeanette Dawson's murder.

"Unfortunately," his lawyer, Michael Cusac, says, now uncomfortable, "the fire was interrupted before all the evidence was destroyed. They know you had McGarrett there. They are looking for evidence linking Dawson's death to McGarrett's time there."

Wo Fat digests this new information. He can't prove himself innocent, but perhaps he still has the influence needed to make all of this disappear. A few well-planned deaths should do the trick.

Cusac rambles on about appeals that he knows he can't beat, so he tones him out, starts thinking of whom to send after Five-Oh's favorite lab technician. McGarrett is too well-guarded for now, but his partner, Danny Williams and Williams' daughter are both exposed enough.

"Paper," he demands of Cusac, who obediently takes a fresh sheet of legal paper and pen. Wo Fat dictates a set of specific instructions that seem far less menacing than they are. Dry cleaning and a short foodstuffs list, along with a request for a change of address. His lawyer does not look puzzled, despite the randomness of the instructions. He certainly knows by now that he's carrying an encrypted message ordering a dastardly deed.

"I will see you in two days for the dismissal of the eyewitness."

Wo Fat is immediately gathered by the guard, the same scrawny kid, and taken back to his cell. Shortly after he settles on the bed, another guard brings him lunch. Ever since he started a riot simply by being marched into the cafeteria for food, the guards kept him separate. Another reason to continue the track for solitary confinement.

He doesn't mind; it gives him more time to plan his escape and continue dismantling the cases against him without having to watch his back constantly.

The food, a grilled chicken sandwich with canned potatoes and green beans, is unappetizing as ever, but it is nourishment, and so he eats it.

After a guard collects the tray and plastic utensils, Wo Fat takes a piss. His day is almost done now. All he has to do is wait until lights out and then sleep until first count.

So much time put to use. His brain never shuts off, and he makes sure it never will. No one can make it into his cell without his knowing it.

He settles back on the bed and thinks of the ways he will kill Steve McGarrett after eliminating all the people McGarrett loves.

Finally, Wo Fat smiles.

* * *

Danny wakes up with a hand over his mouth and someone holding him down. He still fights, bucking and twisting, even as a third person joins the others. They pin his legs first, an overweight assailant sitting on them while the other two pull his arms away from his body.

There is no light, aside from the nightlight Grace insisted he have, but it's enough for Danny to see the hypodermic needle in one guy's hand.

Danny's glad of only one thing as he fails to move away from the sharp object aimed at his neck: it's not his turn to have Grace. His baby girl is safe at her mother's house instead of here with him where she could be abducted or worse.

Whatever was in the syringe burns as it spreads through his veins, and the light blurs as tears fill his eyes. Why is he crying? Maybe the pain? Maybe the thought of never seeing his daughter again? Or, maybe it's a combination of the two.

Either way, he sobs once before the stuff finally, finally knocks him out.

* * *

Charlie Fong sets the table for one. He's made a delicious traditional luau meal, minus the whole roasted pig, but he hasn't got anyone to share it with. Kono Kalakaua is the obvious choice, and if Charlie is honest with himself, still a liked possibility, but tonight is not an abnormal night. So, Charlie puts on some music, slow dances by himself, and tucks into a meal that is every bit as delicious as a traditional luau feast.

Leftovers are quickly stored, dishes are done, and Charlie dances again, this time with the broom, as he sweeps his kitchen.

Later, after a nice shower, he settles in bed with a book on new DNA procedures. There is a conference in Miami, and one of the authors of this book is going to be speaking. If Charlie can convince his superiors of the necessity of this seminar, he fully intends to meet Natalia Boa Vista.

As it is, he needs to appear well-versed in enough of the new procedures that training would be beneficial. Boa Vista is an excellent author, and Charlie finishes the first few chapters of her section before his self-imposed lights out at 10:00 p.m.

He settles, curling on his left side with the blanket, a thin sheet really, wrapped tightly around his body. Sleep comes quickly as he dreams of talking to Ms. Boa Vista and of learning how to process DNA more effectively.

Sometime in the night, he awakens. He can't find his clock, even after running his hand over the bedside table where it's usually located. Alarmed, he climbs out of bed, quietly pulling an aluminum bat from beneath the bed.

Brandishing it, he slips through the hall, his thick carpet making his footfalls absolutely silent. At the foot of the stairs, he flips the switch to turn on the overhead, unsurprised when it doesn't work.

A streetlight outside his home provides enough illumination for him to see a figure clothed in black, with a mask over his face, creeping along the wall. Before the man, a gun already in his hand, can react, Charlie swings the bat, knocking the intruder, and, more importantly, the gun down.

The man climbs to his feet, and Charlie switches the bat with the gun. He points it at the man, one hand holding it steady. Seemingly unhurried, the intruder draws another gun from his person. Charlie pulls the trigger but nothing happens.

The man laughs quietly, cocking his new gun and aiming at Charlie. Charlie throws the gun he's holding at him, dropping to one knee to find the baseball bat again. He swings from his lowered position, catching the side of the man's leg with a solid hit just as the gun goes off. The man screams in pain, while Charlie whispers a thank you to his ancestors for protecting him.

He strikes the man again, this time on the wrist of the hand that is still holding the gun. It's a small caliber, Charlie notes as he nudges it away from the man. He grabs the mask and rips it off. He doesn't recognize the hard face of the  _kama'aina_  in his living room.

"Well, you made a mistake, didn't you?" Charlie says, finding some climbing rope he'd left in a corner from the last time he'd done endurance training. He secures the man to a chair, and then he locates his cell phone. His first call is to HPD. His second is to Detective Williams.

Danny answers on the third ring with a sharp, "What?"

"Someone just tried to kill me," Charlie says, hurt that Danny's already mad. "I got him secured, and HPD is on its way. Just thought you'd like to know."

"I, uh, I appreciate your call," Danny says, gentler now. "Please call Kono or Chin. I've got my own work right now. Have a good morning." He hangs up before Charlie can say anything else.

"Good morning to you too," he grumbles, but he does call Kono and Chin, both of them already on their way to his place to help him with the intruder. Charlie sits on the couch, facing the man still tied to the chair, waiting for relief.

* * *

Chin taps a button on the phone trace generator. Fong had sounded so…Fong when he'd called Kono to tell her about his conversation with Danny. Kono felt something was wrong, and she usually has great instinct, so Chin sets up a trace on Steve's hospital phone while Kono distracts Mary, and Kamekona mutes a late night/early morning infomercial.

Steve watches Chin closely. He still doesn't remember the last week he's been awake because of his concussion (or because of the nature of his injuries, doctors are unhelpful information-givers when they're trying to protect patient privacy), but he trusts Chin, even when Chin shoves a script under his nose. Steve practices quietly, voice tripping over a few syllables before catching on a cadence Chin likes.

He presses another button, and then dials Danny's number. When Danny answers, Steve plays his part perfectly. Danny sounds exhausted and hurt, but, and it pains Chin so much to do it, as soon as he has Danny's location, he terminates the call.

Steve doesn't move and doesn't put the phone down. Kamekona turns on the volume, and Mary, tailed by Kono, returns.

Chin leaves the room, Kono on his heels now, before Mary can yell at him for breaking her brother.

He's already got his phone out, onto the next stage. "Hey, Duke," he says, "we've got him."

* * *

Danny huddles against the wall, glad that, for the moment, the men are more interested in eating than in beating him.

The chains on his wrists are chaffing, as is the iron collar wrapped around his neck. So far, he has several bruised ribs, a split lip, a black eye, two loose teeth, and an almost irresistible urge to piss.

One of the men, a chubby fellow who looks as freaked out about torturing a cop as Danny is about being the tortured cop, and the one who sat on his legs when he was injected with that god-awful drug, approaches him with a pastry in the palm of his hand.

"I can't eat it," Danny says thickly, trying not to displace the loose teeth with his tongue.

"Don't bite me, brah," the guy replies, holding the pastry gingerly between two fingers.

"I told you," Danny growls, "I can't eat it. My teeth are hanging in by a thread and anything, even talking could dislodge them. I won't risk doing that. Not when I need all my teeth for my charming smile."

"Whatever, brah." The guy goes back to the others.

"He bothering you, Junior?" the leader, a thick-headed ruffian, says, already on his feet, heading toward Danny, who hunches down as best he can.

"No, brah," Junior says, stuffing the pastry in his own mouth so he has two sticky hands to grab at the leader. "He ain't bothering me n'tall."

"Well he's bothering me." Ruffian grins as he shakes Junior off.

"Please, please, you do not want to do this," Danny says, twisting one way and then the other as much as his restraints will let him. "You can let me go, and I won't press charges. You really don't want to do this." Ruffian drops to his knees and grabs Danny's chin. With his other hand, he flips open a blade. He uses the tip to trace the curve of Danny's cheek, down to the collar. Then, he lowers his other hand until it is resting just above the collar.

"Stop talking," he orders, digging the blade in a little, just until Danny can feel a drop of blood roll down his neck.

"Okay," Danny breathes, falls silent. The knife runs over the collar, metal scraping metal that has Danny wincing, and lowers to his collarbone.

"Inhale," Ruffian orders. "Exhale. Inhale. Exhale." The other four men, including Junior gather around them, and they breathe on command too. "Inhale. Exhale. Inhale." Danny sucks in a breath. "Exhale." He lets it out, and as he does, the blade angles in and plunges deep into his shoulder. He chokes on his exhale, tears coming to his eyes.

"That's the way," Ruffian soothes him as he manages a few hitching breaths. "That's good." Then he draws out the knife, angling it again, and stabbing it back into Danny's shoulder.

"Bastard," Danny spits out amidst the pain of his flesh tearing. Ruffian-Bastard just laughs.

Danny's phone rings again. He'd almost forgotten Fong's call—the reason for his loose teeth. Now, it seems someone else requires something. He could have told Ruffian-Bastard and his crew that kidnapping a cop was a really bad idea, but they didn't like listening to him. Ruffian-Bastard puts the call on speakerphone and holds it near enough that Danny can see "unknown caller" on the screen.

"Danno?" a rough voice asks, and god almighty, it's Steve. "Danno, where are you?"

"Hey, babe," Danny says like everything's okay, except he can hear the waver in his voice. No doubt Steve can hear it too.

"Danno, I'm scared. The doctor says she's gotta tell me something. She said it's not good. Where are you?"

"I'm close, babe, real close. I'll see you when I've finished what I'm doing."

The phone goes dead, and Danny stares at it. He doesn't see the fist that clocks him, but he sure as hell feels it. More fists pound against his body, striking him in several vulnerable spots as he jerks away as much as he can.

And then something crashes against the back of his skull, and he sags, darkness obliterating everything except the words Junior speaks, "You've killed him," admonishing the person who bashed in Danny's head. It was probably Ruffian-Bastard, the asshole.

* * *

 


	10. Chapter Nine

* * *

Steve holds the phone long after Chin tells him they've got Danny's location, long after Mary pushed the "end" button again. Kamekona sits on a chair that looks dwarfed by his size, watching some soap opera, and eating Steve's lunch.

"You sure you're fine?" Steve says, just to hear his own voice. Kamekona waves a hand at him but doesn't take his attention from the TV screen.

Finally, Steve hangs up the phone. Mary, who had been sleeping in the other bed, sits up, hair still remarkably neat. She doesn't move around as much as she'd used to, Steve realizes. He's not quite sure what to make of that.

Mary checks his temperature with a quick kiss to his forehead, and then his pulse, two fingers a steady pressure on his wrist.

"Will you let me know when they get Danno back?" he says. It's almost time for more meds, and the dosage is enough that everything turns fuzzy and he can't concentrate on anything until he sleeps off the high.

Mary smiles, "Sure." The word drops flat between them. He knows she's not going to honor his request, so he focuses his gaze on Kamekona until the big man looks at him.

"When they get _haole_ Danno, I will let you know," he says, attention already back on his show. Good enough, Steve thinks, leaning back gingerly as the wounds on his back protest. Although tired, he musters a smile when a nurse enters the room. She smiles back, preparing to slip another dose of medication into his IV.

Once the liquid is settled in the line, Mary shoos the woman away, settling in a chair she drags to Steve's bedside so she can read to him from some trashy novel about a naval officer and a reporter until her voice fades into the swell of unconsciousness precipitated by the morphine.

* * *

Kono slides in the window of the warehouse next to the one where Danny's being held. She stays low, gun out and sweeping the room as she creeps closer to the door adjoining the two buildings. In her ear, Chin directs her through picking a six-point lock that keeps this side shut.

The click sounds loud to her, but the noise level on the other side, a group of men laughing boisterously, seems to keep her presence from being detected.

"I'm ready," she whispers to Chin, hand on the door, pulling it just enough so she can peek through the crack. "They're on the side closest to where you wanted to make an entry." Chin begins prepping the alpha team, and she pulls a flash grenade from her flak jacket. "Going in three, two, one." She yanks the pin free and rolls the canister across the floor, closing the door and covering her eyes with her arm.

She waits until the grenade detonates, the flash still visible through her sheltered eyes, through the crack under the door. At the same time she reopens the door, she hears Chin and the alpha team breaking through the front entrance. She runs into the fray, her cry of "Five-Oh" joining the mix of noise as six men trapped between the teams start panicking.

At least three go for weapons, and Chin pumps two rounds into each with his Benelli M1. Another one, a young man who, like Kamekona, enjoys food a bit much, grabs Danny, using a key on a chain around his neck to unlock manacles from Danny's wrists.

Kono blocks him when he drags Danny toward the door she'd come through.

"Five-Oh," she says calmly, gun aimed at the man's forehead. "Down on the ground, hands over your head."

"Kono?" Danny's head shoots up, and he stares at her, relief and joy evident despite the heavy bruising and patches of blood covering his face. Her heart seizes at the sight of the wounds. Then, she catches a glimpse of his injured shoulder.

"I'm surrendering myself," the man interrupts, hands interlocked over his head, face down on the dirty cement. Chin wrests the man's hands onto his back where he cinches a pair of metal cuffs. They look a little tight on the man's wrists but no one, not even the suspect, says anything about it.

Kono shakes herself, looping an arm around Danny and leading him out into the sunshine. He blinks and squints, face turned to the sky. He stumbles every so often as they approach her car. She leans him against the boot, searching her backseat until she finds a scarf that she winds around his shoulder. Chin interrogates their suspect, the only one willing to talk, it seems, a few yards away from them. He glances at them when Kono makes a sound of distress as Danny lists to the side, eyes closed, breathing increasing in frequency, sliding down her car until she catches him.

"I'm taking him to the hospital," she says, already shoving him into the backseat. "Hang tight, Danno," she whispers, crawling behind the wheel.

"Don' call me Danno," Danny says, voice strained. "Only Grace and Steve get to call me Danno, and Steve only gets away with it 'cause otherwise he'd call me booboo or some other term of endearment that would only make me kill him faster."

During his rant, Kono starts the car and merges with the almost nonexistent traffic. With her lights flashing and a lead foot to rival Steve's, she knows they'll make it to the ER soon. Danny isn't doing well. She checks the rearview mirror, but if he'd opened them, Danny's eyes are closed again. "Danno?" she tries, happy when his eyes slit open.

"What'd I jus' tell ya?" he groans. "Do not call me Danno. I changed my mind, I'm going to kill Steve the next time he calls me that."

"Try the time after," she suggests, just to keep him talking.

"Oh no, Steve doesn't ever get to call me Danno again."

"Not even if I told you he's been really worried about you?"

Danny snorts. "Steve is not concerned about me, never has been."

"Yeah, we'll talk with Mary and see if you change your mind."

She pulls into the parking lot of Queens Medical, helping Danny to the entrance, where a couple of orderlies are waiting with a gurney. God bless Chin and his foresight to call ahead.

"I'll get started on your paperwork," she tells Danny, his admittance greased by the badge hanging from her belt.

"Don't call Rachel," Danny replies before the orderlies wheel him through the double doors and a nurse hands her a clipboard.

Kono wanders over to the waiting room, perching on a plastic-covered single seat. It's just as uncomfortable as they were when she was here two weeks ago for Steve's admittance.

A quick glance at the paperwork and she pulls out her phone. Despite Danny's words—his plea, really—ringing in her ear, she dials Rachel's number. Rachel should know Danny's medical history, she justifies. Before she can press send, her phone chimes.

"Hey, cuz," she says to Chin.

"Hey. I sent a unit to Rachel's house to check on them. If Wo Fat is outsourcing his revenge, it stands to reason he probably put a bounty on Danny's entire family on the island. Either way, it doesn't hurt to have them protected until this blows over."

"Are you gonna tell her or do you want to tell Danny?"

"I'll tell Danny. I'll be at HQ for a little while longer, but I'll swing by before they settle Danny in a room."

"Okay, good luck, cuz."

"You too, Kono."

He hangs up, and she turns back to the paperwork. Decisively she punches in Rachel's number again and hits the call button.

* * *

Rachel is awake, barely, when her phone goes off. Stan's in the shower, and Grace is still sleeping.

Caller ID says Kono, but the few years she spent married to Danny means her gut tells her it's him or something to do with him. None of his co-workers ever contacts her unless they are doing him a favor.

"Officer Kalakaua," she manages to whisper, despite her throat drying out. "How is he?"

"He's being evaluated. There should be an armed escort at your place now. Check in with either me or Chin Ho Kelly to be sure."

"Are we in any danger?" Fully aawke now, Rachel pulls on a robe and peers around the thick curtains covering the large picture window in the bedroom. She watches for a long moment while Kono thinks over her question. Satisfied that nothing is out of place, Rachel runs to Grace's room, thankful that it is Sunday and they don't have plans.

She checks Grace's window, catching sight of a squad car driving through the alley behind their house. Nothing else appears amiss, and she covers the window again, sitting on the bed next to Grace and stroking her sleeping daughter's face.

"I don't know," Kono finally says. "We think Danny was targeted as a way to get back at Steve—Commander McGarrett for taking down a criminal named Wo Fat. We believe that once word gets back to Wo Fat of their failure, that the retaliation will be even greater."

"Should we move back to the mainland?" Rachel runs her hand over Grace's head, smoothing some of her frizzy hair. Kono sighs heavily, and Rachel hears the unspoken anger in it.

"No," she says, maybe sharper than she means, because she follows with, "If you move, we can't protect you."

"Just tell me where Danny is. I want to talk to him."

"We're at Queens Medical," Kono says. In the background, Rachel hears someone say, "Detective Kalakaua?" and Kono hangs up with a brief, "See you soon."

"Danno?" Grace murmurs, batting at her mother's hand and sitting up. "Danno's okay, right?" She rubs a hand over her eyes, blinking up at Rachel, and Rachel can see she knows something's wrong. It makes it harder to lie to her, so she doesn't try yet.

She softens it, though, saying, "Danny's a little hurt." But, it doesn't help. Grace is out of bed and already at the stand they make her keep her shoes at.

"Grab my jacket, Mommy," she says, tugging on her rain boots. Danny bought her those, Rachel thinks with a jolt. The matching jacket is in her closest, and obligingly, Rachel gets it out. "Come on, Mom, we don't need to keep Danno waiting."

"Let me talk to Stan first," Rachel says. She holds out the raincoat and Grace drapes it over her shoulders. "Brush your hair and teeth. You might also have time to change."

She leaves her daughter pouting in the middle of her room, rain jacket hanging off her shoulders, one boot on, one boot off.

"Hey, babe," Stan greets her when she enters the steam-filled master bathroom. He is taller than the privacy stand, so he watches, eyes widening in surprise when she sits on the covered toilet.

"Danny's in the hospital," she tells him. "Queens Medical. The one by his workplace. Grace and I are going over later. Will you be all right alone?"

His expression, set into a grimace at the mention of her ex-husband, thaws almost instantly at her words, and he smiles at her. "I will be okay as long as you and Grace are okay. Tell Danny I wish him a speedy recovery."

She's not entirely sure if he really does because he's an accomplished liar, and he's been even less accepting of Danny ever since Danny shot him in the shoulder.

"I'll call you when I know more," she says. "Oh, Officer Kalakaua said the police department has us in protective custody."

"Why?" Stan's posture stiffens, and his face hardens back into that ugly mask. "Was Danny injured because of his job? Is someone going to come after us?"

"I think his injuries were related to his job, yes, but it was not something he did."

"Still, should you really take Grace to see him? What if he puts her in danger?" The 'like before' goes unsaid but not unheard. Rachel knows it's there. It's always there, in her head. Every time she speaks to the lawyers, she always reminds them about the time Danny's ex-partner had escaped prison to come after them. Grace had been caught in the middle, kidnapped and tied up, and when Danny had freed her, she wouldn't leave his side for a week. Danny had ended up sleeping on a mat in Grace's room while she held his hand when the lawyers wouldn't let her stay at his apartment.

Thinking of this, Rachel leaves Stan to finish his shower while she slips out of her nightgown into an old t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. She keeps these clothes to garden in, and it shows; stained and ripped knees, holes torn in the shirt.

Grace still has her rain boots and slicker on, but she's changed into a dress Danny bought her for picture day at school. She's also burshed her hair enough to tie it back in a pony-tail. Wordlessly, she takes Rachel's hand and lets her take her out to the car.

The ride to the hospital is quiet. Grace has her travel pack with her—the one she takes with her to visit Danny—but it remains unopened, and Grace stares out the window instead. Despite Grace's insistence upon wearing the raingear, it isn't actually raining, and for that Rachel is a little thankful.

They arrive without incident, although Rachel counted no less than three police cars following them from the house to the hospital. She nods at the officer, who meets them at the entrance to the ER. With directions from a nurse, and the officer still trailing them, they find Danny's room. Kono is waiting for them outside the room. Danny is just back from surgery, she says. She also says he's asleep.

The light is dimmed, but it's still enough to see by, and Rachel fights to keep her expression neutral at Danny's appearance. His face is bruised with a few angry scrapes on his cheeks and temples. It's his shoulder, though, that catches her eye. Thick white gauze covers the wound, but she can see where blood is seeping through.

"Danno?" Grace whispers, tiptoeing to the bed. Rachel grabs at her, and Kono deflects her hand. "Danno, are you going to be okay?"

"Of course he will be," Kono says softly. "He just needs a lot of time to rest. Did you know our bodies heal themselves when we sleep?"

Grace stares with wide eyes. "Is that why Danno's always telling me to sleep when I have a cold?" Kono nods.

"Come on, Grace," Rachel says. She's had plenty of this room and she doesn't appreciate the way Kono is undermining her. "We'll come back when Danny's awake."

"No," Grace says, standing with set feet and clenched fists. "I want to stay with Danno."

"I can look after her if you don't want to stay," Kono says. "She needs to see that her father is okay."

"Monkey?" a weak whisper queries, and Grace hops onto the bed, "Danno!" curling from her lips. Rachel hears the love and relief in her daughter's voice. If she admits to herself, she feels relief too.

Carefully, Grace hugs Danny, who, although awake, doesn't move much. "Mommy said we should leave, and Step-Stan didn't want us to come." Rachel flushes. She hadn't thought Grace could hear them.

"I love you, Monkey," Danny whispers, and Kono moves his good arm to help him hug Grace finally. "Thank you for visiting. Now, you wanna tell me why you're wearing rain gear when it most specifically is not raining, at least not inside  _my_  hospital room?"

Rachel sighs, but she sinks into a chair across from the bed and rests her head against the wall. When did she become the bad parent?

Kono sets Grace up on a mobile bed like Danny's, tray extended and crayons and paper ready for her. Then, looking at Danny who's dozing, Grace who's drawing, and Rachel who's resting, she says, "I need to check on Steve. I'll be right back. Call if you need anything."

Once she's gone, Rachel lets the semi-silence lull her to sleep.

* * *

 


	11. Chapter Ten

* * *

Kamekona's phone buzzes five times before the big man answers it. Shortly after a muttered conversation in pidgin, he leaves the room, the soap opera he'd been watching still running.

Steve's still asleep, curled on his side. The doctors keep shifting his position, but even with the painkillers, Steve still tosses and turns.

Mary has a whole stack of Harlequins waiting to be read, but right now, she can't stop watching her brother. He's covered in sweat and moaning softly, a sound like a wounded animal.

Another nurse drops by to inject something in Steve's IV to "lower the fever." Mary doubts her, a new face in the lineup of other caregivers who stop in every other hour or so, but Steve's face smoothes, pain lines he hasn't been without for at least a week disappearing almost instantly. His moaning also eases.

"He should sleep better now," the nurse assures Mary, already on her way out the door, the biohazard waste hidden in her shirt.

"Steve?" Mary hisses a few minutes later when it's obvious whatever the nurse gave him did  _not_  help with his fever. "Steve, wake up." Her hand brushes his shoulder and he sits up, eyes wide but glazed.

"Danno?" he whispers, staring at the door. When nothing happens, he turns to her, his movement jerky and mechanical. "Mary?" His hand shakes when he pushes a strand of her hair over her ear. She clasps it firmly, shocked by the lack of heat in his fingers. He's still covered in sweat with flushed cheeks. That nurse definitely gave him something bad.

Steve's face slowly turns from a blank mask into a frightened one—mimicking her, she's certain—as she jabs at the call button. Fear, cold and roiling, swells in her stomach as she watches two bright spots of color surge in Steve's cheeks while his face pales and his eyes gleam wetly even though they're still glazed over.

Another nurse enters the room, takes one look at Steve, and shouts for a medical team. Mary is shoved across the room while more nurses and a few doctors surround Steve.

"Mary!" Kono—where the hell did she come from?—grips her arm and drags her out into the hall. "Mary, what happened?"

"This nurse, she injected something into Steve's IV. Oh, god, what if she poisoned him?" She took the syringe with her."

Kono nods, and then she pulls out her phone, ducking down so Mary hides her while she dials.

"Chin, keep an eye on Danny, and don't let any medical personnel in to see him. Yeah, McGarrett was injected with an unknown substance. I'll get a sample to give to Fong. Bye, cuz."

She leaves Mary huddled against the wall while she slips back into the room. Mary starts crying. This whole month sucks. First, she was fired from her stewardess job, then Steve was attacked, then Danny, and now Steve's been poisoned. Kono returns and holds her against the wall as the medical team rushes toward the elevator, Steve on his wheeled bed in their midst.

"They need to identify the substance, but they think he'll be all right."

"What the hell?" Mary rounds on Kono, following the officer when she heads to the stairwell. "They  _think_  he'll be okay? He's been poisoned!"

"But they caught it quickly, thanks to you."

Mary droops, weight she wasn't ready to shoulder pressing down on her. She blinks away another sudden wash of tears. "I want Steve to be okay," she sobs into Kono's shoulder. "Is that too much to ask?"

Kono shrugs silently, guiding them toward the stairwell and trudging down the steps with a heavy tread. Mary steps lighter, but their footsteps echo around them, and Mary feels finality, Steve's mortality, with every clop. They sneak into the recovery room for Steve, and Mary catches sight of Steve's face, shocked at the gray, waxy look of his skin and those infernal blots of red. His eyes are open but unseeing. There are no nurses in here, and Kono forces her into the cupboard.

"I'll get someone to stay with him at all times and update us on his condition," she says. "I'll be back soon, I just need to get the sample to Fong. I'll have him send a sketch artist your way, and I'll look at the hospital's security tapes."

Then, Kono glides out the door leaving Mary still crouching in the small armoire

Ten minutes later, right when Mary thinks she's really been abandoned, Kono returns, an HPD officer on her heels. It's the same one from Steve's office, the one who promised her he'd help protect her.

"This is Officer Samuel Kale. He helped us rescue Steve. We can trust him."

The young man nods briskly, carrying a chair to the entrance of the room. He sits silently, not even a rustle of clothing. Kono salutes him, and he returns the gesture. He closes the door behind them when they leave.

The elevator they use hums quietly as they ascend, and Mary starts crying again.

"Let's go wait in Danny's room," Kono suggests kindly, one hand clutching Mary's shoulder so she can steer her when the elevator stops with a ping and the doors open on another sterile hallway. "Grace is in there too."

Mary nods, scrubs at her eyes, and draws in a deep breath. Then she shakes off Kono's hand and straightens her spine. She will not scare Danny's child any further, no matter how she wants his support for Steve's wellbeing.

At Danny's door, Chin pulls Kono away, already whispering in her ear, so Mary goes in alone. There is a pretty girl, crayons and papers on a tray over her lap, on the bed next to Danny's and a strange woman sitting in a chair near the window.

"Hi, Mary," Danny says. His smile is tight and pinched, and she realizes Chin already told him about the attack on Steve. "For what it's worth, they caught her."

"Is Uncle Steve going to be okay?" the little girl climbs down from her bed and goes to Danny. She grabs her father's hand.

"It's Steve," Danny says calmly, using his other hand to trace Grace's hand, "he'll be up and about in no time."

"What about you?"

Danny draws her into a hug instead of answering.

The woman by the window checks her watch. "Danny, we need to go. We promised to meet Stan for lunch."

"I don't want to go," Grace says. "I want to stay with Danno."

"Grace," the woman sighs. "No. We will come back tomorrow."

"Danno!" Grace cries, and Danny hugs her again. Then he holds her away from him so he can use a gentle thumb to wipe away a tear.

"Go with your mom now, Grace. I'm not going anywhere, and in fact, I'll probably be released day after tomorrow."

Rachel—Mary finally remembers her name from one of Steve's emails—grabs Grace's hand and drags her out of the room without bothering to collect the crayons and paper Grace was using. Mary does it for her, setting the small backpack she finds by the foot of the bed on the chair Rachel had been sitting on.

"Do you really think Steve's going to be okay?"

"Chin told me they found the antidote and the person who tried to kill him."

"Who was it?"

"One of Wo Fat's lackeys—a groupie, if you will. Chin and Kono have gone to interrogate her. So, now, since my oh-so-lovely ex-wife stole my lunch date, would you eat with me so I don't feel lonely?"

Mary can't help but smile even though she is frightened something will happen to Steve if she isn't watching him. She thinks of Kale's conviction that he'd do everything in his power to keep her safe. She realizes that his exchanging of salutes with Kono is the same promise, just nonverbally. Appeased, insomuch as she can be right now when she's still on edge from the most recent attack, she settles onto Grace's bed while Danny calls the kitchens to order the "good stuff."

"So," he says when that's done, "twenty questions. Go."

"Animal?" she asks, accepting his distraction.

"No."

* * *

The Coffee is cold, but Chin drinks it anyway. The suspect, thirty-six year old Annetta Hainey, is already in the blue room. She's terrified, has already given up the information that she's in love with Wo Fat. Not so in love, though, that she thinks he'll rescue her. So far, she hasn't asked for a lawyer, but that could change once she's fully aware of all the charges Chin intends to throw at her.

He squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and enters the room again. He lets the door fall shut but doesn't step any farther into the room. He also doesn't speak, letting Hainey watch him watch her.

"Please don't kill me," she finally says. "I did it for love. Can't you understand?"

"No," he says. "Love is not an excuse to try killing someone. I do not have to understand you because what you did makes no sense."

"If someone was hurting your loved ones, wouldn't you do everything in our power to help them or make that threat go away?"

"How did Wo Fat give you the poison? How did he communicate with you that Steve McGarrett was the target?"

"I don't know. Wo Fat never actually spoke to me. I got in contact with one of his men." Hainey pauses to sniffle, shaking her handcuffs too. "He told me this was the best way to get Wo Fat's attention."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know his name, but I can describe him."

"Good," Chin says, opening the door. Hainey blinks in the sudden light.

"Am I still going to prison?" she calls after him as the door swings shut again. Chin doesn't respond, his phone out, already dialing a number.

"Hey, Duke, Kelly here. I need your best sketch artist now. We may have a direct line going back to Wo Fat."

* * *

 


	12. Chapter Eleven

* * *

Danny waits until Mary leaves to go take a shower and sleep for a couple hours before dressing and sneaking down to Steve's floor.

There's a guard on the door, but Danny knows him—it's Idaho.

"Hey, Spud," Danny calls. "Howzit?" Both he and Kale wince at the totally Hawaiian phrase.

"It's going good. Say, are you supposed to be up?"

"Yep," Danny says, big smile. He'd never heard whether he was actually supposed to remain bedridden, but being as he wasn't being monitored as closely as, say, Steve he felt certain he would be forgiven for this little excursion. "Nothing hurts, no IVs, no nurses. Just waiting on my discharge papers. How's Steve?"

He's lying through his teeth about the pain. Despite having a sling, his shoulder still protests every shiver, tremble, and breath he takes.

Kale peeks back into the room. "He's asleep. I'm not really supposed to let anyone in without Chin Ho Kelly's approval."

"But?"

"But, every time he wakes up, Commander McGarrett asks for you."

"So, Idaho," Danny says, straightening his back and trying to hide a wince as his muscles twinge at the movement, "you gonna let me in, or should I call Chin to confirm?"

"If you'd call, please," Kale says. "I really don't want to be responsible for another attack on the commander."

"Understood. Your phone?"

Kale surrenders his phone quickly but stays close to Danny as he enters Chin's number and presses send.

"Kelly," Chin answers on the second ring.

"Hey, Chin, it's Danny. Can I get in to see Steve or did I make a wasted trip?"

"Go see Steve. Kale keeps telling me he's been asking for you."

"Good. Thanks, bye." Danny hangs up and hands the phone back to Kale. "Carry on, Idaho." The door clicks shut behind him, and Danny pauses to take in the pulled curtains diluting what little sunlight there is and the way a machine by Steve's bed hums, loud in the otherwise silent room.

He makes his way through the semi-darkness, settling onto the foot of the bed. Steve opens his eyes as Danny's weight shifts the bed. Danny, using the hand not in a sling, grabs his hand, fingers smoothing a circle on Steve's cold flesh.

"Hey," Steve breathes, voice rough and catching on a cough.

"Hey yourself, Steven," Danny says back.

"Danny, Danno, Danny," Steve says. "Danny, I'm so sorry." Like it's his fault Danny almost had an arm amputated by a stabbing maniac.

"S'okay," Danny murmurs, good hand leaving Steve's to run through Steve's hair. "You didn't do it."

"But I—"

"Don't," Danny says sharply. "Do not blame yourself, Steve. You are not the one that did this."

"But it's because of me," Steve argues. "I could have killed Wo Fat back at the trailer. There was a woman there. I-I didn't think she'd attack me."

Danny sends a silent thank you skyward. Last time he'd talked to Steve, before his little run in with Wo Fat's mercenaries, Steve'd had no memory of anything that had happened after the torture at his house.

"Wo Fat did something to me," Steve says, and Danny hears all the things Steve's not saying in that shaky voice. He hears pain, fear, a little bit of anger, and a whole lot of sad. "He used things on me— _in_  me." And Steve's resolve vanishes with a choked sob.

"Babe," Danny whispers, pushing at Steve's side until he moves over enough to allow Danny to crawl next to him and hold him with his good arm, mindful of Steve's still healing shoulder. "Babe, you're better and stronger than him, than what he did to you. I can't promise it won't take a while, but you will get better. I will not leave you to suffer alone." He presses a kiss to Steve's forehead, as he would with Grace if ever she needed him like Steve needs him now. "I promise you, Wo Fat will not get away with hurting you. He—"

"Shut up, Danny," Steve interrupts him, squashing his face against Danny's chest. "I believe you."

Danny laughs quietly, surprising himself when he starts choking on sobs too. "Don't die on me, Steve."

"Wasn't planning on it," Steve responds. "How long can you stay?"

"I don't know. We should ask Idaho to call Chin again."

"Who's Idaho?"

"Cop from Idaho. He helped catch Joe White and ran protection detail on Mary. He was undercover in Wo Fat's circle of jerks. He's manning the door right now." Danny rolls Steve off his arm carefully, so as not to aggravate any injuries on either of them. "Let me just grab Idaho's phone, since I don't have mine on me anymore."

He's half-raised, legs already sliding onto the floor when Steve grabs at him, hands clutching Danny's tightly. He pulls Danny back onto the bed, tangling their feet together. "Don't leave," he gasps, "please." The fear is back and it brought friends with it.

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere."

"Please don't." Steve's face is back against Danny's chest, and his tears soak Danny's shirt. His sobs cut Danny's heart. "Please don't leave me here alone."

"I won't. I'm not. Steve, babe, I'm right here. I am not going anywhere."

Open-mouthed breathing is his only response. Steve's fallen asleep on him. It's not entirely uncomfortable—yet—but still Danny squirms out of under Steve's weight. Immediately, Steve's grip tightens. Steve's hurt and scared, Danny thinks, and it makes him want to kill Wo Fat a hundred percent—a thousand percent—more. 

* * *

The sketch artist is good, as is Hainey's descriptions, and Fong has a coherent face to run through his recognition software. While he waits for results, he talks to Max Bergman. They trade information on the case over finger sandwiches Max brought with him.

Fong knows Steve was poisoned—injected with venom, actually. He was able to isolate the compound and narrow the supplier. He's heard that Steve's treatment has gone well.

Max reveals that the charred woman pulled from the trailer where Steve was thought to have been tortured was killed by Wo Fat. He also, after swearing Fong to absolute secrecy, told him that Steve had been sexually assaulted.

"I know," Fong says, words spilling out before he can quite stop them, "I had to process the speculum."

They sit in silence for a long while, sandwiches discarded while they sift their thoughts. Five minutes in, a harried tech enters, a long printout hanging from her fingertips.

"Your results on the sketch," she says, stealing one of the plates of food on her way out again.

It's a man with a rap sheet longer than Santa's Nice and Naughty lists combined. Max disappears while Fong calls Chin to tell him about their suspect.

"Be careful," he says. "This guy's got at least four murders he may have committed, along with conspiring to blow up a federal building."

"Will do," Chin says, and the line clicks off before Fong can ask for updates on Danny and Steve.

"Have to hope they're okay," he mutters to himself before going back to the rest of the evidence collected from the burned trailer. This case, he promises no one in particular, will be airtight. It's the only revenge he can enact on Five-Oh's behalf, and it's got to be enough for him.

* * *

Kono stands with her feet set apart and her gun drawn. The man running from her cousin turns in her direction and she flips off the safety. The man—tall and thin with buzzed red hair—isn't looking where he's going, too busy focusing on Chin barreling after him, and she smacks him with the butt of her gun, sending him sprawling.

"Hey!" he cries out. Kono steps on his chest, putting enough weight to keep him pinned until Chin, limping and wincing, is able to handcuff the man.

"You're under arrest."

"I want a lawyer!"

"Very well," Chin says, yanking him upright and then shoving him towards Kono's car. Frederich Buchanan, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used in a court of law to prosecute you. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they've been read to you?"

As soon as Buchanan nods, Chin throws him in the backseat.

"He didn't waste any time lawyering up," Kono observes. "You okay, cuz?" Chin's still limping, and now he's shaking out his wrist.

"Nothing I haven't had before. Let's interrogate this guy and get a search warrant for everything he's got."

"Got it," Kono says and she climbs behind the wheel while Chin buckles into the passenger seat. 

* * *

Max waits patiently while Kono and Chin stash their prisoner in the blue interrogation room. He hums softly to himself while they wash up, wiping layers of dirt and tiredness from their faces.

Then, "I can prove that the lawyer killed Niko Pokani-Puka."

"Yeah?" Chin says, voice flat and uninterested despite the way his eyes light up. "How so?" He leans over the data table, staring at the files Max pulls up for him.

"I analyzed the chemical composition of the specific cyanide used to kill Mr. Pokani-Puka. It turns out; a shipment of potassium cyanide was hijacked three weeks ago. A man named Jems Cuask was the main suspect. He is now deceased. His body was pulled from the harbor two days ago."

"How was he killed?" Kono asks.

"A gunshot wound to the left temple. Ballistics matched a .45 belonging to Shannon Triste, the lawyer for many of Wo Fat's low-level employees."

"She kept some of the cyanide after killing Cusac. Why was Cusac killed?"

Chin scratches the back of his head before focusing on the data table and typing furiously. "Cusac had a plea agreement with HPD about the cyanide heist. He was going to give up Wo Fat."

"So," Kono jumps in, "Triste disposed of him. And then she killed Pokani-Puka to keep him quiet. Wo Fat really doesn't know how to hire, does he?"

"I'll get the paperwork in motion to get a warrant for Triste's arrest. Thank you, Max, for your information. Go update Fong, I'm sure he'll appreciate it. Kono, go talk to Buchanan. Try to get as much out of him as you can before he either asks for a lawyer or one shows up unannounced."

"You got it, cuz," Kono says, heading towards the interrogation room. Max shakes Chin's hand delicately, assuring him that Fong will indeed approve of being kept in the loop, as it were.

"Off you go, Max," Chin says, already bent over his next task, fingers flying as he types a request for the prosecuting attorney to review for a search warrant. "We'll try to keep you updated as well."

"Very good," Max whispers to himself. "Very good."

* * *

It's not often that Grace disobeys any of her parents, so it's with a guilty conscience that she tells her mom and Step-Stan that she needs the bathroom.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Mom asks.

"Danno lets me go by myself," Grace says, folding her napkin neatly and laying it next to her plate. "Please, may I be excused?"

"Yes," Stan says and Mom nods.

Grace doesn't run—they're in a restaurant and too many people are watching—but she doesn't not hurry either. The bathroom can't be seen from their table, so Grace makes a token detour to push the door open but not step inside. Then she hurries to the entryway.

She manages to slip around the hostess and escape into the mid-afternoon sunshine. As promised, Mary McGarrett is waiting for her.

"Okay, kiddo," Mary says, flicking an unlit match from her mouth, "let's go see your dad."

The ride is uneventful right up until they get to Danno's room. Her backpack is on the chair her mom had been sitting in, one pocket unzipped—the one she keeps her cellphone number in for easy access. But her father isn't in his bed anymore.

She turns to Mary, tears in her eyes. "Where's Danno?" she sniffles.

"Let's ask a nurse, okay, kiddo?" Mary smiles, but Grace can see it doesn't make it to her eyes. Before they can leave the room, Mary's phone goes off. "Hey, Sammy," she says brightly. Then her face scrunches down into confusion. "Okay, thanks." She puts the phone back in her pocket.

Grace grabs her backpack, scrutinizing Mary while she makes sure everything is still in there. She knows it was Mary who left the pocket unzipped. "Who's Sammy?"

"Sammy is guarding Steve's room. He said Danny's there."

"So let's go!" Grace runs ahead, waiting impatiently at the elevator as Mary ambles along. "Come on, Mary!" she calls.

Mary smiles and takes Grace's hand, holding it all the way to Steve's room even though there is no crowd of people to lose Grace in.

There is a policeman in uniform standing guard in front of the door. He smiles when he sees them.

"Sammy," Mary says, and the policeman opens the door.

"Commander McGarrett is not himself, still," Sammy warns. "Good luck, Ms McGarrett."

The lights in the room are off and the curtains shut, but Grace can still see the bed. She tiptoes to it, staring at her dad as he pats Uncle Steve's back carefully and sings a soft lullaby.

"Hey, Monkey," he says when he notices her standing there. Steve lifts his head from Danno's chest and gives her a tired-looking smile.

"Hi," she says, and then, "Mary brought me."

"Does, uh, does your mom know you're here?" Danno fixes her with a stare that promises he'll protect her as best he can but she knows she's in trouble.

"Not exactly," she says and shrugs. "I told her I needed to use the bathroom. It's not as if I said where that bathroom was." Steve laughs suddenly, and Danno glares at him.

"I don't have my phone," Grace says. Mary turns on the lights and they all blink, squinting until their eyes adjust.

"Fine," Grace sighs when Danno won't quit looking at her with his disappointed eyes. "Can I borrow your phone?" she asks Mary.

Mary gives it to her and starts dragging one of the chairs close to the bed.

"Hi, Mommy!" Grace says cheerily when her mom answers her phone. She steadfastly ignores the panic and relief she can hear in her mom's voice and says, "I'm with Danno. We're okay. Bye." She hangs up and hands the phone back to Mary. Then, she pulls an essay to work on from her backpack.

"So, Grace," Steve says. "How'd you get my sister to bring you out here?"

"I promised her a game of tennis."

"Easy," Danno snorts. "Look, Grace, you cannot sneak away from your mom like that. It's not fair to her."

"But she wasn't going to let me see you again!"

"So you worried her needlessly? Baby, she only has your best interests at heart."

"She doesn't want me to love you!"

"Yes, she does," Steve whispers. "Maybe she's just afraid that you won't love her as much as you love Danno, so she tries to keep you away so she won't get hurt."

"Maybe," Grace says sullenly. "It's still really mean of her."

"Yes," Steve agrees, pressing his face back into Danno's chest.

"Stop yawning on me," Danno immediately complains. "Go to sleep, Steve. I'll still be here when you wake up."

"I'm tired too," Grace says.

"Finish your homework, Monkey," Danno says. "Mary, can you find another cot?"

"Sure." Mary shrugs, feigning disinterest. "Is Steve asleep?"

"Mostly. Just…don't be scared when he wakes up."

Grace glances at what she can see of Steve's face. "Nightmares? I can help too." She'd seen a shrink after she'd been kidnapped and she'd used what she'd learned to help her friends at school.

"Okay, Monkey," Danno says, and he doesn't sound like it's only to appease her. "I'll have him talk to you once he's calmed."

"Good." Grace returns her attention to her paper—topic of what she wants to be when she's grown up—not glancing up until Mary and Sammy the policeman set up a cot in the corner farthest from the bed.

"Good night," she says to no one in particular and lies down on the cot. Mary throws a blanket over her, and Grace falls asleep before the lights are turned off again.

* * *

 


	13. Chapter Twelve

* * *

Buchanan works his jaw. His lawyer, Shannon Triste, is not helping him, having denounced him for his apparent betrayal of their boss. So far, he's been advised to plead guilty to everything himself, including Wo Fat's first excursion from prison to torture Steve McGarrett.

"I'm not responsible for Wo Fat's actions," he tells the lady Five-Oh. "Please believe me, if I'd known that he wanted to kill McGarrett, I wouldn't have gotten Annetta involved."

"Shut up," Triste growls.

"You know what?" he retorts, finally losing patience. "You can go back to Wo Fat and tell him I am done. He may want to kill me before I let all the cats out of their bags."

She stands abruptly. "Very well, Mr. Buchanan."

"Give Mr. Cusac my regards," Buchanan calls after her. He knows he's dead, and it's only a matter of time before someone higher up in Wo Fat's ranks arrives to take him out. Triste would do it herself, but she's already under suspicion for Niko Pokani-Puka's cyanide-induced passing. If she kills him, she'll have to be killed too, and she wants to live. They all do.

Officer Kalakaua stops Triste as soon as she has a foot in the corridor. Officer Kelly helps her arrest the lawyer. Evidently, Niko had one last trick in his book, and she's stuck in it.

Then, Kelly enters the room.

"You are being offered protective custody for everything you can tell us about Wo Fat's operation." He doesn't sound pleased, and Buchanan guesses it wasn't his idea.

"I'm a cleaner, albeit a highly tasked one. I don't really know much about the operation, I just clean up evidence. With my help, you may have a few pieces of the puzzle, but you won't be able to solve it."

"What are the pieces you'll give us?"

"Everything I know, but I advise you to record it all. I have only one request; provide me with a means to end my life should I be confronted by any members of my former employer."

Kelly nods slowly, hesitation only in how to fill Buchanan's request—Buchanan reads it in his eyes. "I will see what I can do. Now," he clicks on a recorder hanging on the wall next to the door, "begin with your most recent assignment."

"I was contacted by Wo Fat's personal lawyer, Michael Cusac, to eliminate Detective Williams, trace technician Fong, and Commander McGarrett. I outsourced Williams's murder to a local gang, and Fong's to a sort-of friend practicing to be an assassin. I contacted Annetta Hainey to slip a delayed toxin to McGarrett. None of them were supposed to be killed."

"Why?" Kelly hasn't moved since Buchanan began speaking, but his face, although impassive, reflects a growing anger as his jaw clenches and his eyes blaze.

"Jeanette Dawson."

"The woman murdered in the trailer where we found—"

"Yes, she's my sister. Wo Fat's revenge against McGarrett was ill-advised and broke many of his own rules. My sister should never have been in that position. He murdered her, so this is my retaliation. He will not remain unscathed by your investigation."

"You have my word that Wo Fat will not escape," a new voice, gravelly like a six-pack-a-day smoker's, says as the door swings open, bathing the room in a bright light. A heavyset man with thick, gray hair and a gray suit stands in the doorway, surveying Kelly and Buchanan. "Detective Kelly, you may continue to interview your suspect for another thirty minutes, but you may not ask him for anything that doesn't pertain to your current case against Wo Fat."

Kelly shifts, mouth opening, even as the man raises a hand.

"This is our suspect now, Detective. It is a courtesy to your department that we are allowing you to continue your interrogation."

"What's your authority?" Kelly manages. The man motions with his hand, and Kelly's eyes go wide.

"CIA," Buchanan says, guessing that the man has just shown Chin an I.D. "You couldn't catch me, so you had to get Five-Oh to do it for you."

"Keep being lippy to me and I'll personally see that you can't off yourself before Wo Fat gets his revenge against you." They glare at each other.

"I'll only turn over Buchanan," Kelly interrupts their staring match, back in his interrogative stance, "if you promise Wo Fat will die."

"Why should we kill him?"

"Because if you don't, I will."

* * *

Max has a small black bag tucked under one arm as he juggles his I.D., phone, a change of clothing for both Detective Williams and Commander McGarrett, and a mini carry case for Mary McGarrett.

The guard, a young man in his mid-twenties with short blond hair and wide-set blue eyes, takes pity on him, extracting the carry-case and the clothing from Max's perilous grip so Max can open the door.

"Thank you, Max," Danny calls from his position on the bed. He and Steve are sitting up, bumping shoulders as they compare pictures Danny's daughter has drawn for them. "Hey, Spud," he continues, "think you can get Kono and Chin back here before he gets discharged?"

"No, sir." The guard smiles. "Detective Kalakaua said no one was to bother them while they sort the mess out.

"Is your name really 'Spud'?" Max asks the guard as he returns to the door.

"No, it's 'Idaho,'" Steve says. Max shoots him a puzzled glance, before turning back to "Spud."

"Samuel Kale," Spud says. "I'm from Idaho, hence being called 'Idaho' and 'Spud.'"

"My apologies," Max says, sending a glare at both Steve and Danny for good measure.

Kale smiles, "Not a problem." He's very quick with the charming grin, Max notices, and he's got nice, even teeth, too. "Makes me feel a part of something."

Max knows the feeling, felt it recently himself when Danny had called him to see if he could do a favor.

"Oh, good," Danny says suddenly, scrambling off the bed to grab at the set of clothes that are his. Max notices Steve listing sideways, an unhappy look in his eyes, mouth turned down in the barest of frowns before Danny returns to the bed, shoving at him until he's back under Steve's side.

"Danno," Grace says from her corner where she's collecting all her things and putting them neatly into a backpack the pink of a new blossom. "Mommy's picking me up soon. I don't want to go."

"I know, Monkey, but you need to listen to your mother. Besides, I'll be discharged soon and you have school tomorrow."

"I can skip school tomorrow," Grace says, but she doesn't look up, so Max surmises that she knows it's not a good thing to say.

"Skipping school is not something you should be doing," Steve says before Danny can. "It's not fair to you to sacrifice your education so superficially. Grace, I know you want to stay with Danno, but it's best if you go with your mom when she gets here."

Max guesses it's a conversation they had earlier because Grace concedes easily, albeit with a pout and an angry slouch.

"Before I forget," Max says into the silence that follows. "I brought the thing you requested." He hands Danny the black bag. Danny unwraps it quickly, breathing in the steam still rising from a nice cluster of malasadas.

"That?" Steve raises an eyebrow. Danny nods. "That is not top-secret-don't-tell-the-nurse-on-me. That is a heart attack waiting to happen."

"Do you want some?" Danny asks. He's already bitten off two generous mouthfuls and set some of the confection on a napkin for Grace.

Steve says, "Yeah, okay," and accepts a piece.

"Max, you want some too?"

"Ah, thank you." Max takes a small portion and nibbles on it. "Where is your sister, Commander McGarrett?"

"In the lobby waiting for Rachel." As if the words conjure them, Kale opens the door to admit a pretty blonde and a very pretty brunette into the room. The blonde approaches the bed and snatches a piece of malasada before Danny can protest while the brunette goes to Grace.

"Ready, darling?" Her voice lilts in a pleasant English accent.

"I guess so." Grace's pout is firmly back in place, marred a little by some sugar stuck by her bottom lip. She hugs Steve and then Danny.

"Be good, Monkey, and I'll visit you after school tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"Of course. Now, go. Be good for your mother. I love you, Grace."

"Love you, Danno."

Rachel hurries from the room, Grace's hand clutched in hers, and an awkward silence sweeps through the room once the door clicks shut.

"I should really be going," Max says, startling everyone, including himself. He hands the remaining woman, who, by process of elimination, must be Mary McGarrett, her requested carry-case. "It was very nice to see you both, Detective Williams, Commander McGarrett."

"Okay," Danny says. "Thanks again, Max."

"Anytime." Max breathes deeply as he exits the room too. He is not sad that he's not staying, but he can't help feeling odd for not hanging out. He knows he's important to them, but he doesn't think he's supposed to know what Commander McGarrett went through.

Better safe than sorry, he thinks, and let them think he only thinks Steve was physically tortured.

He slides behind the wheel of his yellow Camry. Better to ask permission than to seek forgiveness in this instance.

The thought doesn't make him feel any better.

* * *

 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Major Character Death

* * *

Outside Steve's room, Kono and Mary speak to the doctor together, tag-teaming questions about physical and mental help. Everyone's noticed Steve's dependency on Danny. Even Steve has expressed a desire to be by himself even though he panics whenever Danny leaves his side.

None of the doctors who have checked on Steve quite understand why it's Danny he's got to touch, to feel. Mary was the first person he saw when he woke up from surgery. Kamekona spent so much time sitting with him during the first two weeks of his hospital stay, and Chin was the one to actually rescue him from Wo Fat.

Dr. Nancy Irmish, the third psychologist to evaluate Steve, and the only one he didn't scare away, thinks Danny means normal even if Danny isn't filling his normal position in Steve's life.

Irmish hands resource after resource to Mary, stressing the importance of getting Steve to talk to someone.

"It's 3:00," Kono says quietly. "Damn." Danny's being discharged in fifteen minutes. Grace gets out of school in five minutes, and Steve's hysterical, crying and clinging to Danny as Danny fills out his paperwork. Irmish mentioned something about sedation, but Mary's watched Danny have to calm Steve just to let the nurses inject his regular medications into his IV. There's no way Steve can handle the betrayal of being knocked out.

Mary excuses herself when Kono begins discussing therapy and medication with Irmish. She has the feeling that they're distracting her. And, when she enters the room in time to see one of the nurses inject a sedative into Steve's IV port, she knows she was right. It doesn't work right away, so Danny stops moving—he had been folding his clothes sloppily into the bag Max had brought a couple of days ago. Soon enough, though, Steve's breathing evens out, and Danny squirms away from him.

"Honestly," Danny says, "is there any reason you're keeping him here? Any  _medical_  reason?"

When no one answers him, or even looks at him for that matter, Mary feels anger flare. "You want to keep him here for what reason? More money? I want him processed to go home today."

"And you won't have to sedate him again," Danny adds. "I told you to let me talk to him, but you didn't want to wait."

Irmish and Kono come in. Irmish shoots the nurse a dirty look. "I think it can be arranged that you're discharged at the same time," she says. "You will have to wait for the sedative to wear off first. That should give you a few hours to have him evaluated."

"Thank you," Danny and Mary say at the same time.

"Also, he should have counseling set up before he leaves."

"Will do," Danny assures Irmish.

"I'll send his doctor up in a while to see you. I'll stop by to discuss Steve's treatment again before you leave."

"Sounds good," Mary says, ushering Irmish from the room, the nurse having already sneaked out while Irmish was talking. "Thank you."

Kono disappears out the door too, phone pressed to her ear, a soft "Sorry" left in her wake.

"Well," Danny sighs. "Please call Grace and tell her we'll be getting out about 6:00 tonight."

"Yeah." Mary smiles, aware it's shaky and not altogether real. "Just…make sure he stays okay. Please, Danny?"

"Always," he says, already climbing back into the bed again so Steve can tangle their limbs, even asleep as he is. "I'll always be here for him."

Mary rubs at her eyes, blinking away tears as she goes to the bathroom for some privacy to call Grace and Rachel about the change of plans. "We'll  _all_  always be here," she promises.

* * *

Chin briefs Kono quickly while she archives the recording of Buchanan.

"I leave for ten minutes," she jokes, but Chin's face makes her quiet.

"I asked them to kill him," he confides softly. "If he hadn't been unconscious and if Steve hadn't needed immediate medical attention…" he trails off, but she hears what he doesn't say, knows she feels the same. He clears his throat abruptly, the sound startling her.

"They're going to discharge them both today," she says.

"I know." He smiles, a little too brightly, something patient in his eyes, "you told me already."

"I just," she says, frustrated when the words won't come. "It's—Steve's been through so much. I don't understand how Danny's the one he needs."

What she means, she thinks, is that she wants Steve to need all of them, not just Danny.

"Well, Danny is the one who told us how to act around Steve a week ago. He's still showing us now. Remember, take your cues from Steve."

"Have you seen them?" she laughs, but there is no humor in her, and she winces at the sound. "Danny can't be more than an inch away from him before Steve starts freaking out, and Steve isn't fully mobile yet. Probably won't be for another two or three months."

"That's when they're being observed or Steve's in pain or tired. Usually, they sit on opposite sides of the bed and talk about what's happened to both of them—they refuse to talk to anyone else because they don't want to burden us."

Kono frowns at Chin. Every time she's been at the hospital, he hasn't been there. And when she's at Five-Oh HQ, he's here. How does he know what Steve and Danny do when no one's looking? Unless, "You've got Kale spying on them?"

"No," Chin says quickly, so actually he is. "I have him give me reports."

"It's your way of coping."

"Much like yours is having a hand in Steve's treatment procedures."

"Hey! Mary asked me to be there." She swipes a few files from one monitor to another, duplicating them until they have six identical jump drives.

"Ready?" he asks, but he doesn't wait for her to nod before pulling out a phone that isn't his HPD issued one and pressing a speed dial. "Kretscky, we're ready."

He throws the phone against the wall so it shatters.

"It's almost over?" she asks.

"No, we've still got a long way to go."

They stand in silence for a long moment. Chin shakes himself first, sighing and sweeping the former phone into a pile he can scoop into the trashcan Kono passes him.

"Let's get this done," she says, noticing how tired, how  _old_  Chin looks. "Then we can go take Danny and Steve home."

"Two people will die," Chin says, voice subdued and hard to catch, but he follows her to the data table where they collect the jump drives, sticking them into preaddressed padded envelopes. "And I condoned it, demanded for it to happen."

"I only wish we could get Wo Fat to stand trial for his crimes before he's put to death." Kono doesn't really think this—actually, she believes Steve should have killed the sonofabitch instead of bringing him back to Hawaii.

Chin smiles knowingly at her, but he doesn't say anything.

"Soon as they can drink," Kono says, "I'm buying."

"I'll hold you to it," Chin says.

"Somebody should."

"We'll get through this." Her cousin hugs her and she starts crying. "It  _will_  be okay." 

* * *

Wo Fat shuffles into the room quietly. Against the wall, looking as if he's on a stroll in a park instead of a dark interrogation room, Frederich Buchanan, one of his most able cleaners, leans.

Wo Fat pretends not to see him as he's led to a chair bolted to the floor. The shackles already binding his wrists and ankles are not removed as another set is attached.

"Do you understand why you've been brought here?" a tall, heavy-set man with a stiff shock of gray hair looms over him,

Wo Fat stares impassively at him. He has no interest in the CIA, especially not an agent who once let him escape custody.

"You're not going to stand trial for the charges leveled against you," the man says. "You are not leaving this room alive."

"We shall see," Wo Fat says, a small smile curling his lip, " _jug-eum-ui cheonsa_."

Buchanan straightens sharply before falling forward, convulsing.

While the agents in the room focus on the seizing man, Wo Fat slips a thin strip of metal from the chair, using it to silently pick the locks of his restraints. The gray-haired man turns back to him in time for Wo Fat to slam his hand into his throat. Gasping and wheezing, the man falls back.

Still, he manages to pull a .40 Glock from a holster under his jacket. He works the trigger, and Wo Fat feels the bullets impact.

He's not wearing a vest, and they tear through him, shredding flesh and spraying blood. He chokes on the pain, stumbling back until he hits the wall, sinking down slowly as his breath rattles through his damaged chest. He tries to feel something other than the fear making his fingers cold and numb, but it's the fear that wins.

Wo Fat's last thought is,  _I could have been so much more_.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR STORY:
> 
>  
> 
> Wo Fat dies


	15. Chapter Fourteen

* * *

"It's clean," Steve says quietly, not entirely sure why he's surprised. He glances around, noting his coffee table and couch have been replaced and the wall where he'd been forced to write with his own blood has been repainted. Probably due to the fact that they couldn't remove all traces of the message.

"Thank you," he says to the others, all of them still behind him. He thinks he knows what they're waiting for, and he's certain it won't come to that. He points to Danny, and Danny scurries to his side. "I don't want to be here alone." Okay, maybe not so certain.

"You don't have to be," Danny says. "I'll be here and Mary's going to stay on for a few more weeks."

Steve smiles, an odd thing that pulls his mouth into a heavy grimace as he continues to tour his house. Danny follows him, Grace and Mary trailing after. There is no sound except the soft scuffle of shoes on old rugs.

In Steve's room at the top of the stairs, the bed is neat, and Danny's therapeutic pillow—the one Steve had bought for him after too many reminders that a) Steve never paid for their drinks, Danny did, and b) Steve's now-missing couch was damn uncomfortable. Half the room, the side Steve doesn't use, is crowded with suitcases and a new dresser for Danny's clothing. There is a glass of water on the bedside table, resting on a thick coaster from the coffee table downstairs, and Steve's medications are already set out. It's mirrored on the other side by Danny's own medication.

"Now," Danny says, breaking the silence with a soft huff of air, and Steve notices Danny's eyes are over-bright and his smile looks like it hurts, "if you don't want me there, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"Just don't put your feet on me when we're sleeping."

"Me?" Danny jabs his thumb into his own chest, a look of pretend insult drawing his eyebrows upwards. "You're the one who likes to touch my feet. Like you've got a little fetish or something."

"What's a fetish, Danno?" Grace calls from the hall where she and Mary are waiting patiently. Mary stifles a giggle.

"It's an adult way of saying they like something."

Grace eyes him critically before nodding. "I guess that's another word you don't want Mommy to know you told me."

Steve laughs and Mary high-fives Grace. "Smart girl," Steve says, and Danny just nods. "Are Chin and Kono staying for supper?"

"They'd better," Danny snorts. "They're the cooks tonight."

"We should go back before they find some secret place to go crime solving by themselves," Mary says.

Chin and Kono really deserve a night off, Steve thinks. They'd both worked so hard to rescue first him and then Danny. But, as they make their way back downstairs, and Steve totters on the stairs, clutching Danny's good shoulder all the way, he knows it's not tonight. It probably won't be for a good long while yet. 

* * *

Chin holds Kono back from following the others into Steve's house because his phone is buzzing. She shoots him a puzzled glance as he answers with a curt, "Kelly."

"Detective," Kretscky coughs in his ear, and Chin can almost smell the cigarette the agent is undoubtedly smoking. "He attempted to escape."

Chin nods, grabbing Kono's arm again and leading her to Steve's outdoor shower. They hunch over the phone, and Chin presses speakerphone.

Kretscky coughs again, the tinny sound echoing slightly in the small, roofless room. "I had no choice but to use deadly force to stop him. He was confirmed dead at oh-fifteen hundred hours today."

"Wo Fat is dead?" Chin confirms, keeping his voice as steady as he can when he'd like nothing better than to celebrate, even silently, as Kono's now doing.

"Yes," Kretscky says, "and so is Buchanan. Apparently, someone failed to check him for cyanide pills. He was confirmed dead at five minutes past oh-fifteen hundred hours."

"Thank you, Agent Kretscky," Chin manages, and Kretscky grunts before hanging up. Chin looks to Kono, who's gone from pumping a fist in the air to sitting on the floor, face set as tears roll down her cheeks.

"It's over," she says, subdued. "Steve will never have to face him again."

"Come on, cuz," Chin says, a hand on her arm but not forcing her to her feet. "We've got a welcome home party to cook for."

She smiles suddenly, the sun breaking through the clouds, but Chin still sees something sad. "Steve won't get to find closure now. Kretscky took that away from him."

"I'm sure Steve will find another way. It's Steve after all." He hands her a tissue from a packet he keeps in his pocket for occasions such as this. "Now, let's get back before they've decided we abandoned them."

"Not in a million years," she says, clambering to her feet. They walk quickly, arriving inside just as Danny, Grace, Steve, and Mary stomp down the stairs.

"Have you been crying?" Steve directs to Kono, amazement tingeing his voice, like he's not aware of just how much Kono actually tears up. "Are you sad?"

She hugs him, and they all wait as he stiffens, holding himself still for a long moment before finally returning the embrace. "I'm not anymore," she says, although there are more tears on her face. He smiles shyly, already reaching for Danny's hand. They head outside, since it's supposed to be a luau of sorts with plenty of grilled food.

"So, where are the others?" Danny asks. "You know, Max, Kamekona, Fong, Idaho. Thought they were all invited too?"

"Yeah," Kono says, "Max called to say they'd be a little late. They've got some last minute things to get."

"Okay, well, I'm tired," Steve says, and they all know it because otherwise he wouldn't have said anything, "so, I'm going to sit here." He drags Danny to a pair of lawn chairs permanently stuck in the sand, and carefully arranges his body in one. Danny settles in the other and Grace climbs in his lap.

"Let's get the grill set up and going," Chin says, forcing himself to forgo checking on his friends despite the way his heart thrums against the wrongness of it. He fails miserably, watching how first Steve and then Grace fall asleep while Danny looks like he's found the one place on earth he wants to be that isn't in New Jersey.

Mary brings out blankets to tuck around the sleepers while Kono takes over cooking the steaks since Chin is too focused on the others to properly pay attention.

About the time the others start arriving, Chin remembers the drinks and rushes through filling a cooler with ice and whatever soft drinks he finds in Steve's fridge. Mary asks him to bring another round of Steve's meds and some of Danny's too, and Chin waves to acknowledge her. He leaves the cooler in the kitchen when he heads upstairs, intent on making it back with the meds in a few seconds he'd helped Danny stash them and knows where they're kept.

The memory of finding Steve's blood everywhere in the living room stops him cold two steps in, and he stares at the wall again, seeing the message he'd long since scrubbed off and painted over.

Danny is the only one of Five-Oh Steve's talked to about his rape, but Duke had kept him in the loop too, updating them on just how bad the rape actually was. He knows exactly the kind of torture Wo Fat used, and he knows that Steve's not okay, and probably never will be again. His brief independence from Danny hadn't lasted, and he was using weak excuses to keep from dealing with the rest of them.

Well, okay then. Chin could wait until the doctors or Steve thinks he's ready or Chin could do what Danny said they'd need to do: treat Steve normally.

Finally, he is able to drag himself upstairs. He finds the pills quickly, returning to the kitchen to find Max and Fong adding six packs of beer and soda to the cooler. Fong has another bag of ice next to him.

Max inclines his head in greeting. "Kono," he says, and it doesn't sound as weird as Chin thinks it should, "suggested we assist you in your endeavor."

"Plus," Fong adds, using a knife Steve threatens unwanted visitors with to slice open the bag of ice, "I brought ice." Chin nods at the now-empty bag and Fong has the good grace to blush a little. "We already put the rest of it in the garage's freezer."

Chin grabs one end of the cooler and Max closes the lid. Fong lifts the other end and they all head outside. Mary accepts the medication without taking her eyes off her sleeping brother. He pats her shoulder, and she spares a quick glance. At the look on his face, she backs away.

Chin speaks softly, "Danny." But, Danny still jumps a little.

"What is it, Chin?"

"I need to tell you and Steve something." Then Chin stares at Grace. Danny gets the message, nodding at Mary, who's back with a soda for Danny. She lifts Grace easily, settling her onto her shoulder and heading away from them again.

Danny asks, "Do you want me to wake him up?" Chin rattles the bottles and Danny sighs. "Steve. Hey, Steven, time for the pills."

"Already?" Steve complains without opening his eyes. Obediently he lets his mouth gape, tongue poking out so Chin can put the pills in. Carefully, Danny guides the soda to Steve's lips and waits until he's drank half the bottle before pulling it away. Then Danny swallows his own pills, finishing the bottle and handing it to Chin.

"I have something I need to tell you," Chin says. His heart is pounding in his ears, and he feels the blood rushing through his body. "It's about Wo Fat."

Now, Steve's eyes open, and he looks panicked. "Did he escape again?"

The fear in Steve's voice hurts Chin, and now more than before, he's certain he made the right call. "No."

"Is he sending more people to kill us?"

"No."

Chin glances between Danny and Steve, noticing that Steve's breathing too fast, and Danny's trying to calm him. "Wo Fat is dead." Steve looks up, eyes sharp. Danny frowns slightly, mouthing the words to himself silently.

"The CIA shot him when he tried to escape."

"Dead," Danny finally manages to whisper. "Dead? CIA?"

"I asked them to kill him," Chin admits, his voice calm despite the tremble he feels in his hands.

Steve leans away from Danny and vomits onto the ground, a thin stream of brown liquid and his dissolving pills. He smiles anyway, and Chin feels the tightness in his chest alleviate a little. They  _will_  be okay. They will.

They will.

* * *

 


	16. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight McDanno toward the end. Let me know if it needs to be tagged. Thanks!

* * *

**~Two Weeks Later~**

The ceremony is small and unofficial. It's in Steve's backyard and it involves fire.

It's only been two weeks since Chin revealed Wo Fat's death, and Steve is still not sure he quite believes it, especially since the CIA denied ever having Wo Fat or Frederich Buchanan in their custody.

He has one more month of painkillers for his gunshot wounds and three more weeks of antibiotics, but he feels almost normal again, aside from a slight twinge here and there when he's overexerted himself. Danny's already in therapy for his shoulder, and he's done with his pills. Steve envies him a little.

Kono is looking happier today than she has for a while, but Steve remembers the nights she'd stayed with them when his nightmares had been more than Danny could handle alone. She'd always cried herself to sleep long after she thought he'd been asleep. He doesn't have the courage to ask her why.

He's branched out a bit, able to hobble around the beach for a small walk every morning without dragging Danny with him, but every time he'd have to hold Danny's hand for an hour after to calm down.

Kono is sorting through a huge stack of paper Chin brought with him, separating them into neat piles of pictures and words. She hands everyone a folder with their name scrawled over the cover, different colors, same information.

Steve's folder is blue, Danny's green.

Steve sinks into his chair gratefully, a little worried that he still aches  _there_. Danny hands him a painkiller and a soda with a knowing look and Steve spares a tired smile.

Automatically, he reaches for Danny's hand when it lingers on his armrest, but he forces himself to stop. Dr. Irmish and he are working on his independence from others, and one of the things Steve is supposed to do is let others initiate contact.

Steve ignores Danny's hand, staring resolutely at the bottle in his own, watching the way it shakes as he feels the anxiety crawling up his spin. It wraps cold fingers around his throat and squeezes, leaving him gasping quietly in the sudden airlessness of the backyard.

It hurts, this breathlessness, and Steve whimpers softly.

Danny peeks at him from the corner of his eye, looking away just as quickly even as his hand clamps firmly onto Steve's, creating a point of reference that Steve can focus on, can use to pull himself away from the paralyzing sensations.

"Thanks," he whispers as soon as he can breathe steadily again, hating the way his voice trembles and cracks. Danny just nods.

Kono kindles the fire, stands up, dusts off her hands, and picks up her own pink folder. She waves at them, and Danny lumbers to his feet, Steve following just as clumsily.

"Do we eat first?" Danny wonders, seemingly to himself but for the way he catches Steve's eye.

"I don't feel hungry," Steve replies, "but that's just me."

"Supper's ready," Kamekona calls, making up their minds for them. "You eat up, bruddah," he says, clapping Danny pretty hard on the shoulder. Luckily his good one. Then he leans in, stage whispering, "Make sure he eats, too."

Danny glances at Steve, and Steve raises his eyebrows to say,  _I'm right here_. Danny nods, his default communication since he's been spending most of his time with Steve.

Grace says it's Uncle Steve wearing off on Danno and she'd asked when he was going to be himself again.

Steve had tried not to be hurt, had tried to stop relying on Danny as much, but then the meds that stopped his dreams were taken away, and now he can't go five minutes without Danny by his side.

Danny sits him on the edge of one of the picnic tables that has permanently migrated from Kamekona's dormant shrimp truck, scooting in next to him. Grace tucks herself on Danny's other side, handing them both good-sized rocks that she's painted.

"Napkin weights," she says, as Mary passes by, white squares decorated with Kamekona-shrimps trailing in her wake. Grace demonstrates how the rocks work, simply plopping hers on top of the napkin so it's trapped, beaming widely when a breeze proves her invention necessary. Of course, Danny praises her highly and frequently. Steve finally manages to speak when Danny goes up to get drinks for them.

"I like the pattern," he says, tracing the thick blue lines flowing around his rock. Grace glances up from a plate of chicken Chin handed her earlier, staring at him with a knowing gaze. He points to the rock again, "It's, uh, it's really nice. Reminds me of when I first learned to surf."

Danny comes back before Grace says anything, thumping a plate of grilled shrimp and half a steak in front of Steve, guarding his own plate of a full steak, potato salad, chips, and, improbably, celery.

Steve tries to grip the knife in his left hand. Danny watches him carefully, and Steve ignores him.

Just because he'd needed tetanus shots and his hand is still in bandages doesn't mean Steve needs help eating. He does switch hands on the knife so it's easier, and the shrimp he just scoops up with his fingers. Danny leaves again when he realizes that Grace accidently tipped her cup over the table and Steve can't grip his glass with slippery fingers.

Not hungry to begin with, Steve abandons the steak and shrimp in favor of the root beer shave ice Kamekona brings him. Danny comes back with water for Grace and a straw for Steve.

"We're about ready to begin," he says, wet naps already out and swiping across Grace's face and Steve's palms.

Steve lets himself be pulled to his feet and led to the fire. They are pushed to the front and someone hands them the folders they left on the chairs. Steve swallows hard, feels his saliva drying up and his throat sticking closed. Someone puts a hand on his shoulder and he flinches.

"It's okay," Danny murmurs, and the hand grips him. Usually it would calm him, but the panic only grows until Steve thinks he's going to lose control. Then he shoves the folder into the flames, pages spilling out and igniting as they settle over the heat. He steps back only when Danny nudges him so he can drop his folder in too.

Steve turns away, the acrid smoke burning his sinuses, making him feel like sneezing or crying. He sits at the table again, Grace's abandoned water in hand, fingers ripping at the label. He swallows over and over, still feeling the dryness.

"It doesn't feel real, still," he says to Danny, who's followed him. "You know? It's…I know he can't hurt me, but…"

"You still sense him, you still  _know_  he's coming," Danny finishes, grabbing his own bottle to denude.

"Yeah." Steve falls silent again, spinning the bottle. Then he shoots a glance at Danny. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything," Danny promises, and Steve leans close to him and kisses the corner of his mouth. Danny freezes, but Steve's already pulling back.

"I'm sorry," he says thickly, not quite sure why he'd done it in the first place. "I didn't mean to. I know Gaby—"

"Shut up, Steve." Danny's growl is low, and he's squeezing his bottle. "I understand it. I really do, but I have to draw the line at intimacy."

"That's just it," Steve says, angry now. "It's not about the intimacy. It's about feeling safe. Danny, you make me feel safe." He stops himself there, fixing his eyes on his hands, also strangling his bottle. Beside him, Danny sighs.

"It's Danno," he finally says, and Steve stares at him. "You can call me Danno."

"Now it's lost all its novelty," Steve muses, and then, "Danno." Nope, still good. Danny glares at him without any real malice, but he smiles after a beat.

"Danno," he agrees, poking at Steve's chest without making contact, "Stevo."

Steve shakes his head, but he's laughing, so Danny calls him "Stevo" again. They bump shoulders gently, spinning their bottles in tandem, and then Danny leans close.

"Do me a favor, hey, Steven?"

Steve nods. Danny presses a small kiss to the corner of  _his_  mouth. "You make me feel safe too despite all of my complaints."

Steve smiles again, and they bump shoulders again.

"To  _ohana_ ," Steve says, raising the bottle. " _Mahalo_."

~ The End ~

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This story was a long time coming. It took me the better part of six months (or a year) to write (2012-2013). Once I typed it up (yes, I handwrote it first. My hand aches just remembering it), it took another two years to even get to a place where I could read it and edit it properly. There's still so much wrong with it, but I think all the loose ends were tied up (except for the Cusacs—the lawyer and the cyanide-provider. They're supposed to be brothers or cousins, and Michael is working a long con with the CIA to take down Wo Fat in retaliation for Jems' death).
> 
> I apologize if this story caused any distress, and also for the fact that I am not a medical professional and have made the injuries neither realistic nor believable.
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read, favorite, comment, or follow this story.
> 
> Until next time and happy reading,
> 
> Scaredbeingsinthedark (aka WalkingDictionary)
> 
> (Original author’s note that appeared on post)


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